


In This Light; Soonhoon

by kwanies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist AU, Fluff, M/M, Soonhoon - Freeform, and soonyoung's a stubborn mf but its okay we love him anyway, im sorry im the worst at tagging, uhhhhh jihoon and soonyoung are art students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwanies/pseuds/kwanies
Summary: If you were to ask Soonyoung, he'd tell you that love - romantic, mind you - is a sham. It never works, it's a waste of time, there's no point in trying. If you were to ask Soonyoung, he'd tell you he's perfectly happy without the added stress.Oh, but Jihoon? He's really pretty, Soonyoung would be lying if he said he wasn't, and he's so kind. Interesting and talented, too, maybe, with a little extra something that's enough to make Soonyoung's heart beat fast. He can't say he's ever met someone like that, before.Jihoon makes lovely pictures with his lovely paints. Jihoon lets Soonyoung watch him, sometimes.Jihoon can make art out of nothing, and maybe that applies to more than just a blank canvas.





	1. act one

**Author's Note:**

> artist au,,,, my weakness
> 
> jhskdhjsd another snhn work !! i love these boys nd i loveddd the thought of cute artist jihoon nd soonyoung falling for him so,,, Here We Are
> 
> i wanna make it light nd sweet !! no angst bc my heart can't handle it okay just 100% soonyoung & jihoon living their bestest softest lives (nd i hope u like it a lot <3)
> 
> p.s. the songs for this one's playlist rn't necessarily meant to go along with any particular characters or plot points !! i just rlly like the vibe they give off huehue

➴  **scene 1**

 

 **SOME THINGS TO** consider: yellow lamplight, that murmuring sound the heater makes while it's running. Soonyoung's music, quiet and muffled against the fabric of his hoodie.

"I won't ever paint heartbreak," he says solemnly. "There's no way it wouldn't turn out ugly." Wonwoo's regular way of response is nothing more than a sigh, his eyes turned up for half a second before focusing back on the canvas in front of him. "It would be like blue-green-brown, maybe even a little purple. Like a bruise." Soonyoung makes a face, his features pinching right in the middle with some sort of disgust. "Yeah," he says. "I'll never paint that."

Consider these: Soonyoung is warm, sprawled across two sofa cushions with his gaze glued to the ceiling and his fingers twisting in the air. He's trying to see how many shadow figures he can make, but it's sort of hard to tell in the even lighting.

"It doesn't have to be ugly," Wonwoo finally says, and it's soft.

"It usually is."

Soonyoung starts staring at his hands again. He's trying to figure out how he managed to get red acrylic all over them, kind of admiring the way one patch has dried to a slightly more muted shade. It leaves a little swirl of rose on the side of his palm.

A few more things, right here: brush hairs running dry as the paint gets used up, water swishing inside a jar. Soonyoung breathes in, and the smell of clay fogs up his throat. It tastes earthy. It sits, warm-like in his chest long after he's exhaled.

Wonwoo pushes up his glasses with the side of his hand, coughs once. Soonyoung starts again.

"What's this one about?" he asks. "Is it that boy, again?"

Wonwoo mumbles, "What does it matter?"

Soonyoung lets his fingers fall back down to his lap. He says, "That can't be good. By taking your own art and dedicating it to this one person ... you're practically dedicating a part of your heart to him. You're getting attached."

"Thank you for the wisdom, asshole."

"I'm only looking out for you."

This time, there's no pause before the dialogue. Nothing to indicate that Soonyoung has something to wait for. They sit with nothing but the air between them, the tradition they've upheld for the last few months, now, where Wonwoo works and Soonyoung procrastinates. His ten-minute break should've been up an hour ago, sketchbook still lying abandoned on the nearby desk, but he can't really bring himself to get up.

Soonyoung likes laying, he likes observing. The room is mostly empty, save for a scattering of students trying to finish up overdue projects. Of all he's seen filtering in and out of the studio, there's only one face he thinks he can recognize -

_Who is he?_

Soonyoung mouths the question, having to kick Wonwoo to get his attention and directing it to some corner of the room once he has it; there's this boy, sitting cross-legged on a stool with his eyes half-shut and his paintbrush swirling in murky water. Soonyoung's taken notice of him, if only because he's the only other person in here as often as he is.

"Hm? That's Jihoon," Wonwoo offers. "We have art history together."

"Are you friends?"

Wonwoo shakes his head, saying, "Not really. He's nice, I guess, just shy. He doesn't talk much."

Soonyoung watches him a while, because when Soonyoung isn't talking, he's watching. Taking in the details and absorbing the physical bits of information. Messy hair and untucked shirts can say a lot about a person, but Jihoon's got a hat on and his sweater swallows his frame. Blinking, Soonyoung catches the way his nose twitches when he moves to squeeze a bit of acrylic onto his palette. 

"Have you tried?"

"What, talking to him? I've got no reason to."

Soonyoung hums. He's got his line of sight trained on the boy, and everything else outside that line just seems to blur. Soonyoung notices the pink patch under his eye, too vivid to be a blush, and how his mouth pinches to one side in concentration.

"If you're so interested," Wonwoo says, "you should go say hello." Soonyoung tsks.

"Another time, maybe."

He lets his gaze linger a few moments longer.

Another time, surely.

 

➴  **scene 2**

 

Another time comes much quicker than Soonyoung would've anticipated, although he's got no reason to be taken by surprise. It's him, after all. Just him and his lazy words, lazy arms dangling over the back of a chair while he waits for Wonwoo to show up.

"Oh, what's this?" he asks, trying not to smile when Jihoon startles. "It's really pretty."

"Uh, I'm - I'm sorry?"

"Your painting," he clarifies. "I like it."

"Oh, um. Thank you."

Soonyoung's quiet for a moment when Jihoon blinks hard and turns to grab a tube of green, squeezing a little out and mixing it with a light shade of brown. He's not handing out empty compliments, either; it really is quite a nice picture.

Shades of forest are blended all across the canvas, foliage and tree-bark tones with dots of lilac, dots of yellow for the flowers. Butterflies fly in a variety of reds and the sky is a whole mix of blues and lighter blues, interrupted only by the clouds making their way across the scene. It's picturesque, Soonyoung thinks. 

"I like the colors," he comments. Jihoon breathes through his nose and says something that sounds like  _well, grass is usually green ..._  but Soonyoung can't be too sure, it's so quiet.

"I'm Soonyoung," he tries again.

"Jihoon," the boy offers shortly.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"Just today."

"Today?" Soonyoung whistles, moving so his elbows are resting on the chair and his chin is resting in his hands. "That's impressive."

" ... It's alright, I guess."

"No, not alright.  _Impressive_."

Jihoon looks flattered and embarrassed all at once, ducking his head to hide his blush. It doesn't do any good, though, Soonyoung can still see the tips of his ears tinged pink. His leg shakes as he cleans his brush.

"I'm - I'm glad you think so."

Soonyoung cracks a smile, just a small one, before spotting a familiar figure from the corner of his eye. Standing, he says, "Wonwoo's here, that's my cue to leave. It was nice chatting, Jihoon."

And if Jihoon says anything back, Soonyoung doesn't hear it.

 

➴  **scene 3**

 

"You were right, he  _is_  quiet."

Not in the studio - not yet. They're making their way over.

"Did you harass him?" Wonwoo asks, and he's got that tone that makes it sound like he's only  _kind of_  joking. Soonyoung pouts.

"No, I made friendly conversation. Friendly, one-way conversation. He barely said a word."

"I told you, he's shy."

"Well. I'm not."

"This may come as a shock, Soonyoung, but not everyone's like you."

Soonyoung's got that smile on his face, one that feels all loose and lopsided. His feet hit the ground clumsily and he keeps knocking his shoulder into Wonwoo's, bones unbolted, leaving his limbs like jello, and he says, "I just wanna make friends."

"Why you feel the need to  _make friends_  with every person you meet is beyond me."

"I don't know, he's just interesting."

"You don't know a thing about him."

"I have a feeling."

A feeling, just pulling at his gut. Soonyoung's curious by nature and easy to hold, and Jihoon need only exist to prove it. i

"He's not some mystery case for you to figure out, you know. He's just reserved. That's not an invitation for you to go sticking your nose into matters that don't belong to you."

Soonyoung hums, nose turned up and eyes squinted against the glare of the sun overhead. He says, "I only want to get to know him a little. I'm not asking him to tell me his life story."

It's warm out, with just enough breeze to keep them comfortable on their walk across campus. They've got this observational project coming up, Soonyoung remembers, something like three different works of the same setting over a period of time. This would be nice, he thinks. The birds come and go. The light filters in and out behind the clouds. Soonyoung's heart feels set and comfortable in his chest, leaning with the feeling of it all.

"Do what you like," Wonwoo says, rummaging in his bag before coming up with an apple. "Just don't drive the kid crazy."

Soonyoung gapes dramatically, forcing his eyes wide and failing to keep the smile out of them. "My God, then what's the point?"

 

➴  **scene 4**

 

Slipping into the seat beside him, Soonyoung glances at Jihoon and asks, "Mind if I stay here?" Jihoon's silent for a few moments, registering the question, maybe, before he shakes his head. Soonyoung hums contentedly and looks at him a second longer before digging into his bag, laying out his stuff.

They work quietly like that, side-by-side. Soonyoung focuses on the paper beneath his fingers and the sound of erasers rubbing, pencils scratching; he's careful not to smudge the lines with the side of his hand, but does it anyway when his elbow knocks into Jihoon's arm. He inhales sharply.

"Sorry, did I mess you up?"

Jihoon makes a noise at the back of his throat, something that Soonyoung thinks is supposed to mean  _no_ , and that's it. Soonyoung goes back to fumbling with his pencil sharpener, and that's it.

Only, until Jihoon starts speaking.

"What, uh," he clears his throat, trying again. "What is it you're working on?"

"Hm? - Oh, look," Soonyoung leans back and turns his sketchbook to give the boy a better look, watching his expression carefully.

It's messy, Soonyoung thinks, more graphite than color and hardly polished, but the look on Jihoon's face is worth it, anyway. He looks impressed, maybe; mouth open in a silent  _o_  and his eyebrows high on his forehead, and Soonyoung can't help swelling a little with pride.

"I don't really know where it's going," he starts to explain, "but I'm pretty sure I'll color it to shit with marker. It's quite plain, really. Also - I have no idea who that person is, just some rando I thought of, hence the most generic-looking human face you'll ever see in your life - "

"Can you stop selling yourself short for like, two seconds? I think it's really nice."

Soonyoung blinks, caught off-guard by the sudden expression. Honestly, he thinks that's the most he's heard Jihoon speak since they first met a few days ago.

"You do?"

"Yeah, actually. It's cool. Is it for a class?"

He shrugs. "Mainly just trying to branch out with different styles and mediums. It's nothing special."

"Do you plan on making it a solid background?" Jihoon asks. Soonyoung thinks, he nods. "You should give the shirt a pattern, then. Maybe stripes? I like stripes. I mean, only if you want, obviously it's up to you - but it might make the picture look more interesting. Uh, not that it isn't already interesting, because it is, I'm just saying - " Jihoon breaks off when Soonyoung starts to laugh quietly, the corners of his mouth tugging. 

"Just, forget I said anything," he finishes miserably. "It'll look good either way."

Soonyoung smiles at him a little longer, endeared. "No," he says, "you're right. I didn't think of that. I'm glad you said something."

They settle again, Soonyoung drawing soft lines for button-up stripes and Jihoon going back to his own piece, and it's good, it's serene. Soonyoung's usually one for chatter, nonstop talk about the most pointless of things, but he doesn't mind this. Jihoon doesn't seem to, either.

Minutes turn to hours, Soonyoung flipping mindlessly through his sketchbook, starting new drawings and finishing older, abandoned ones while Jihoon moves into watercolor.

In truth, Soonyoung could go - Minghao texted him asking if he wanted to go out with them for dinner, and he thinks he would - but something keeps him rooted to his seat. Just this one part of him, buried somewhere between his heart and his mind, wants to stay a little longer. If only to see what happens, really.

"What about you," he starts, "what are you making?"

Jihoon falters with his brush in the air, caught halfway between his paper and the watercolor palette. Saturated, popsicle orange drips and hits the table.

"Uh, this? It's just, um. Well, here, you can just look."

Soonyoung pushes his seat nearer to the boy to get a closer look, tongue falling flat and failing him the second he registers what it is he's looking  _at_.

Oh, he thinks. It's  _so_  lovely.

A splendid array of springtime and all it's pretty colors bleeding into each other; mounds and mounds of flowers, tiny buds peeking from the corner of the page and much, much bigger ones spreading under the expanse of color. There are small animals tucked between the petals and the leaves, birds with their little eggs and a bunny with eyes shaded so expertly, Soonyoung thinks they might actually be shining. Something full and overflowing with life captured on paper.

It's a delicate painting, something Soonyoung almost feels like he has to restrain himself from looking at with too much force; he won't let his eyes rake over it, refuses to tear at the picture with his own gaze. It's the sort of thing that deserves to be looked at gently. Like skin skimming over water, like new shoes on ice.

He doesn't realize how quiet he's been until Jihoon clears his throat, and Soonyoung glances up to see him scratching the back of his neck.

"It's not done," he says. "I still need to finish coloring it, but ... yeah." Soonyoung scoffs.

"Dude, this makes that doodle I showed you look like something that should be hung in a child's bedroom. No, seriously," his eyes go wide and earnest when Jihoon holds up his hands to protest. "This is really fucking good. How long have you spent on it?"

"About three weeks, maybe? God, don't look at me like that - "

"Like what?"

"Like - Like  _that_ , I feel weird. It's only three weeks."

Soonyoung thinks three weeks seems like a relatively short amount of time, considering it's about as large as a small table and filled to the very margins with ink.

"You work  _really_  fast."

"Right, well. This is pretty much the only thing I've worked on, in all that time."

"You were doing something different the other day," Soonyoung remarks, and Jihoon pauses.

"Okay, so, I've taken a few breaks - "

"To paint, you took a break from painting this to paint something else. Do you do anything other than paint?"

"Uh ... I draw, sometimes?"

Soonyoung stares at him a bit, eyes bordering incredulous, until the pink starts to make its way onto Jihoon's face and he feels guilty enough to look away.

Soonyoung's an art student, he gets it. He gets all the passion and energy and time spent wanting nothing more than to  _make art_  - but Soonyoung procrastinates like a bitch, and he's got other stuff to take care of.

"Do you eat?"

Jihoon furrows his brows, blinking. "Obviously."

"Friends? You have friends, right?"

"I've got a life, Soonyoung."

Soonyoung grins at him, every part of him laughing save for the actual sound of it, and without thinking, he reaches out to grab at Jihoon's free hand.

Soonyoung holds it there, just in his; he's watching Jihoon and Jihoon's watching their fingers, his expression caught at the melting point between utter shock and plain confusion. It takes a second or two for the gears in his head to kickstart again, Soonyoung assumes, before he's snatching his hand away.

"What are you doing?" he scowls.

"If you spend  _that_  much time holding a pencil, or a paintbrush or whatever the fuck - dude, you must have some serious calluses."

Rubbing his palm like he's just been burnt, his scowl melts into something a little softer. Jihoon says, "I mean, yeah. You could've just asked." Soonyoung laughs a little.

"I wasn't making a move on you, I think you can breathe."

Jihoon's still blushing when he busies himself with painting again, and for a split moment, Soonyoung thinks he might be able to reach over and brush chalk dust from the tip of his nose. Pink and powdery, sort of cute.

"You do a lot of nature stuff," Soonyoung comments. He's got his cheek resting in the palm of his hand, head tilted while Jihoon works.

"You've seen, like, two of my pieces."

"You could show me more."

Jihoon looks at him pointedly, like he  _could_  be rolling his eyes, but he doesn't even want to waste the effort. "You're distracting me," he says simply.

"You can probably afford to take one of those breaks, now."

"For what, you?"

"God, if I'm lucky."

There's a sarcastic hitch to his tone, something light accommodating his smirk, and Jihoon seems lost on it for a second - but the smile spreading over his face is sure, if a little slow, and eventually Jihoon's glancing around at his setup and setting aside brushes, closing up the watercolors for later.

"Fine," he says, shaking the tension from his bones, "count yourself lucky."

Conversation flows easy, although that could be chalked up to the fact that Soonyoung just likes to talk. Jihoon goes still a lot, takes his time thinking and coming up with what he wants to say - he's cautious about a lot of it. Where Soonyoung likes to launch himself out over the water without a second thought, Jihoon paddles carefully.

Soonyoung can practically see the boy turning over words in his mind. He starts to wonder how many of them he's actually getting to hear.

"Are you shy, Jihoon?"

"Wh - Me?"

"Wonwoo says you're shy."

" ... Were you asking about me?"

The question takes him by surprise, and he only notices his own face heating up when it's too late to stop it. Jihoon grins, full and laughing so Soonyoung can even see his canines gleaming, and says, "Stalker."

"I have  _not_  been stalking you."

"So, you were just asking around - "

"I was  _curious_ ," he insists, shoving Jihoon lightly when he starts to laugh. "I see you in here all the time, sue me for wondering."

Jihoon settles back down, laughter dying down into a bout of giggles before he goes quiet again. His feet are pulled up on the seat, one arm wrapped around his knees and the other resting lazily across the back of his chair. He looks so small, so compact in the burnt yellow lighting.

"I  _am_  in here all the time," he says, "but I don't really pay attention to the people around me."

"That's because you actually do shit, work or whatever. I like to waste time. People-watching is fun, though, you should try it." Jihoon makes a face, eyebrows pinching, lips pursed.

"That sounds creepy."

"It's not, I swear. I mean, okay, it's a  _little_  creepy, depending on how you go about it - but it can be interesting, too. If you're someone who likes doing portraits, it's especially good."

"I hate doing portraits."

Soonyoung sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're really making this tough for me, huh? No, seriously, look - " he reaches out to direct Jihoon's attention, gesturing to different parts of the room. "Focus on any one person in here," he says, "and just watch them. It's like a game, you know? What kind of person do you think they are, just based off their appearance and mannerisms?"

Jihoon's silent, eyes traveling from person to person before settling back on Soonyoung. Neither one of them says anything, and then - "Don't you think that's really, really weird?"

"It's not!" Soonyoung laughs, smacking his arm lightly. "You're just being difficult, that's all. You should try it."

Jihoon just keeps staring at him. The corner of his mouth is pulled into a half-smile, and Soonyoung can feel himself under scrutiny. Every feature of his face is being drawn under observation when Jihoon's eyes flicker over him.

Soonyoung hears like he's underwater, the clattering and voices all muffled and heavy in the background. Jihoon's got a gaze like commanding, like it's latched onto Soonyoung's and now the latter can't look anywhere else.

When he speaks, his voice is low.

"You're not supposed to look at  _me_ , we've already met."

It's like flicking a switch. The lights go on and Jihoon's staring at the table suddenly, half-smile frozen in place.

"Ah, well ... maybe another time. I'm not bored enough to spend my time staring at other people."

"Suit yourself," Soonyoung shrugs. He feels himself go buoyant, floating back up to the surface. Clear again, crystal. He's still only looking at Jihoon, though.

Soonyoung wanders through his own train of thought, going over whims and gut feelings. His conscience tends to pull him in odd directions, ones labeled thickly with road signs that read  _hey, look here, who knows what you'll find!_ And Soonyoung being Soonyoung, he doesn't hesitate to follow.

So, he barely knows Jihoon, he could hardly call him a friend, but something's telling him it's worth a shot.


	2. act two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gagging as i post this i know it's not very good i know my writing's gone downhill i'm sorry please don't beat my ass for it

➴ **scene 1**

 

 **SOONYOUNG ISN’T FULLY** aware of anything for a moment, just a soft blur of lights and color between his eyelashes, but then he blinks and the image sharpens. Pencils scattered haphazardly, a tangle of fairy lights hanging loosely against the back wall; a jar laying on its side and murky water spilled, pooling, dripping through the cracks and down the side of the table. Soonyoung blinks again, and suddenly there’s Jihoon, sighing and bent over the mess with a wad of paper towels.

“You move in your sleep a lot, you know,” is what he says, and Soonyoung can only register the words a second or two after they’re spoken. “Here I am,” he continues, “trying to do my work in peace, and you decide to start thrashing around. You’re lucky none of this got on my paper.”

“Would you have yelled at me if it did?” Soonyoung asks, and it comes out stretched around a yawn. He gives a lopsided sort of smile when he sees the look on Jihoon’s face.

“What’s funny?”

“You,” Soonyoung says simply, still smiling. “It’s like you’re trying to look mad, but you can’t.”

“Right, well. Just know that I’d actually be pissed if your dumb sleeping habits managed to ruin my entire painting.”

Soonyoung yawns again, arms folded between his chest and the table. His eyelids droop and his vision runs slowly across the room, taking in the scene around him; he’s quiet for a minute before asking, “Were you here before I crashed?” Beside him, Jihoon’s painting sits unfinished and his bag hangs off the back of his chair. “Because I don’t think I remember you were.”

There’s a pause, and Soonyoung glances over to see Jihoon balling up the last of the paper towel. The tension between his brows starts to melt until his eyes have gone completely soft, lips pinched to one side. “No,” he says. “I showed up a little later, you were already asleep.”

“Oh. Okay.” Part of him is flattered that Jihoon chose to sit next to him without any real obligation to - the rest of him is saying it’s not a big deal. And it isn’t, really, but Soonyoung appreciates it anyway.

“I’m almost finished with this,” Jihoon starts, coming around the table with a newly-filled jar of water. “A little more coloring to do, but otherwise I’m done.”

“You’re killing it,” Soonyoung says, moving his chair closer, and he doesn’t have to look to know Jihoon is probably blushing. “It looks incredible.”

“It’s … I mean, thanks. I think it turned out alright, too. I kind of like it.”

He says it quietly, unsteadily, like the words are off-balance, and it makes Soonyoung want to squirm. There’s pity tapping against his insides, some sad sympathy at the sight of the boy next to him - Jihoon just seems so cautious in everything he says and does, almost delicate. Like one blow could send him tumbling. He seems wary even just going to grab his paintbrush.

“What are you so nervous about?” Soonyoung asks, and Jihoon’s hand stutters mid-reach. “You’re so quiet about everything. You know, you’re allowed to be proud - it’s really pretty, Jihoon. You know that. You can _say_ that.”

Jihoon doesn’t respond right away, his lower lip caught between his teeth and gazing at the picture he’s made. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m just not super confident.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

Soonyoung thinks. He doesn’t know what kind of advice to give, but maybe consolation would be better.

“Alright, but you should keep in mind that we go to an art school full of some of the most pretentious kids we’ll ever meet - if anyone has the right to judge you, it’s definitely not them, trust me.” Jihoon looks at him now, with his brows turned up and his eyes all big, and Soonyoung is awfully endeared. He’s kind of cute, in a way.

“I’m just not as self-assured as you are, Soonyoung. I don’t know how to be like that.”

Soonyoung grins and claps him on the shoulder - then pats the same spot softly after the boy winces - and says, “We’ll work on it. You’re friends with me, now, so you’ve got no excuse to not be trying.”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, I’m perfectly happy with the way I am now. It’s been working pretty well for the last twenty years, actually.” Soonyoung sighs and lays his head on the table, hands folded against his cheek and his eyes turned up at Jihoon. The latter doesn’t look back at him.

“I’m just saying,” he says, “it doesn’t do you any good to shut yourself up like this. What’s nicer to look at - an old ass painting with faded varnish, or one that’s been regularly taken care of and restored?”

“My personality is not some old ass painting.”

“You’re sort of missing my point, here.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and stretches his arms, voice straining with the movement as he says, “I never asked to be your friend, for the record.” Soonyoung grins.

“And yet, here we are. You’ll see, Jihoon, this is just a blessing in disguise.”

Jihoon smiles something small, and for the next half hour - Soonyoung counts every minute - it never leaves his face. It’s pretty and pink and leaves his eyes looking like crescents, and it’s cute, Soonyoung thinks. Jihoon’s sort of cute.

 

➴ **scene 2**

 

“We’re going out for coffee this weekend.” It’s spoken so quietly Soonyoung can’t even be sure he heard it right, but one look at the boy beside him doesn’t leave any room for doubt. Wonwoo’s got a faint blush running across his cheeks, just short of his eyes and over the bridge of his nose, and he won’t meet Soonyoung’s stare. “He asked me if I’d be up for it, and I said yes.”

“So, is this a date?”

Quiet, quiet, “I don’t know. Maybe.” Soonyoung hums.

“Good, I’m happy for you.”

“I thought you said relationships are a waste of time.”

“I did say that, and it’s true - but you’re still my best friend. If that’s what makes you happy, then I’ll be happy with you. I won’t be an asshole about it.”

“Even if it ends badly?”

“ _Especially_ if it ends badly.”

Soonyoung flips through his sketchbook mindlessly, running his thumb across the paper and watching the way it picks up some of the graphite. Wonwoo’s had a thing for Mingyu for a while now. Really, Soonyoung’s happy for him.

“You know, my parents met in college.”

“Did they?”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung doesn’t say any more than that. Wonwoo’s probably gotten the story by now, give or take a few minor details - and it’s enough for him to get the hint.

“It’s nothing serious,” he says. “Just, trying something out. He’s really nice.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“I think you’d like him.”

“I believe you.”

Wonwoo frowns down at his lap. There’s a bit of clay that’s managed to dry against the denim of his jeans, kind of faded and cracked, and Soonyoung looks at his own hands. They’ve been working with clay modeling for the last hour, and he’s managed to get it smeared across his palms, dried white and powdery. He clasps his own fingers together and breathes in deep.

“You know,” he says, starting to change the subject, “I’ve been talking to that one kid - Jihoon?”

“Talking to him, or talking over him?”

“ _To_ him,” Soonyoung tsks. “He’s alright, actually. I like him.”

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to get anything out of him. Jihoon’s quiet, makes it real easy for you to steamroll him completely  - “

“You make me out to be so much worse than I actually am.” Soonyoung laughs a little, stretching out his leg and kicking the side of Wonwoo’s seat. “I like making friends, and that includes _listening_.”

“Then I’m not surprised as to why you don’t have that many friends.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

It’s true, though - he makes his way around, knows most of the people in his classes by name and has had his fair share of conversations with them all, but he’s only got a few good friends. He barely even gets to see a lot of them anymore, actually, they’re so busy.

The thing is, Soonyoung’s friendly, he’s charismatic; he can smile and crack jokes and appeal to whatever audience he’s got and _it’ll_ _work every time_ \- until they actually get to know him.

“I’m just opinionated.”

“Opinionated is fine, I just think you could stand to be a little less of an asshole when you express it.”

“How am I an asshole? I can’t help it if some people are just sensitive.”

Wonwoo sighs, running his hands through his hair (and cringing immediately afterward when he remembers, undoubtedly, that his hands are also covered in clay). “No,” he says, “I’m pretty sure you’re just mean - not all the time! Just, sometimes. Like last week, you didn’t have to go that hard on Seungkwan.”

“I didn’t.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Flirting is a waste of time. If you have any sense of rationality, you’ll give up now and stop chasing something that’s bound to fail.’”

Soonyoung’s quiet, frowning. “I had good intentions.”

“You could’ve been nicer about it.”

“Okay, maybe - but I have yet to piss off Jihoon, so that’s progress. Given, we’ve only spoken a few times, but still. I think he likes me.”

“God only knows why,” Wonwoo mumbles. “But hey, maybe now you’ll stop talking my ear off.” Soonyoung smiles, big and bright enough to make Wonwoo squint.

“Definitely not,” he says. “I can talk enough for the both of you - you can’t get rid of me _that_ easily.”

 

➴ **scene 3**

 

“Is this spot taken?”

Soonyoung glances up, shielding his eyes from the bits of sun peeking through the foliage above. It’s bright and blinding, creating a silhouette out of the figure in front of him. “Jihoon?” he asks.

“No,” the figure says, dropping down in the free space, “Jihoon? I don’t know who that is.” Soonyoung hums, amused, and beside him Jihoon stretches his legs out across the blanket. He rests the back of his head against the tree, saying, “For real, you don’t mind if I join, do you?”

“No, ‘course not. I mean, I don’t know why you’re willingly spending time with me, but I won’t complain.” Jihoon scoffs and looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Crazy, I know. You just looked a little lonely, and I was only wandering around … figured it might be nice to have some company.”

The day is sweet, just the right kind of warm, fresh-feeling and comfortable; spring had started to set in for the long haul, bringing all her loveliness with her, and Soonyoung thought he might use it to his advantage. “This project,” he explains to Jihoon, “we have to make an observational piece. Catch me out here over the next two weeks sketching the same scene on three different pieces of paper.”

“It’s pretty,” Jihoon comments, looking out over the campus. The grass is getting greener, fuller, in that soft kind of way that makes Soonyoung want to pull it out of the ground, and little dandelions can be seen popping up here and there. Since it isn’t so cold anymore, more students have taken it upon themselves to hang out and do work outside, sprawled out with their papers over picnic blankets and benches. Soonyoung had just managed to snag himself a spot under the shade, with a full view of what’s going on around him.

“You should stay with me,” he offers. “Like, when I’m out here.” Jihoon seems to consider this.

“Sure, if I don’t have class while you’re at it.”

Everything flows easy - the breeze, the conversation. Soonyoung lulls in and out of the present moment, fading into some quiet concentration before snapping out of it and focusing back on Jihoon’s voice. At some point, he sets his pencil down and just closes his eyes, rolling his shoulders against the tree bark. “Keep talking,” he says when Jihoon falters, “I’m listening.”

“It’s not that important, anyway. I’m just rambling.”

“No, no, it’s cool - you said your friend’s going on a date?”

“Yeah, he’s been going off about it for the last week. He’s had a thing for this kid in his design class for ages now, and he finally worked up the nerve to ask him out the other day.”

Soonyoung sighs, opening one eye just slightly to peek at the boy. Jihoon’s got a nice profile, he notices; all soft features and blurred pretty. The apples of his cheeks look warm and full, brushed pink in the open air. A faint blush runs over the bridge of his nose and touches his cupid’s bow, and there’s just this barely noticeable curve to his lips. His eyes kind of sparkle, Soonyoung thinks. Brown sugar and golden flecks all caught in the sunlight.

“Good luck with that,” he murmurs, slowly tuning back into the conversation.

“Mm, what do you mean?”

“Like, good luck when it all ends. I’m assuming you two are pretty good friends? He’ll probably go to you for comfort.” Jihoon furrows his brows, turning his head to look at Soonyoung, and then the sun isn’t hitting his face anymore. His eyes aren’t sparkling like they were just a second ago.

“That’s kind of a weird thing to say.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, I mean … what makes you so sure it’ll end?”

“How serious do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, but they seem to like each other a lot. Even if it isn’t serious, I’m not really thinking about the worst possible outcome.”

“Neither am I, I’m just thinking realistically.”

Jihoon watches him for a long while without saying anything, and this is it, Soonyoung thinks, this is what Wonwoo was talking about. Maybe he is too brash. Maybe he should learn when to keep quiet.

But all Jihoon says is, “I get the feeling you aren’t much of a romantic.” He cracks a bitter smile.

“How’d you guess?”

“Huh. To each their own, I suppose. I think it’s just sweet. He’s really excited, you know? Whether you’re pessimistic or not, it’s hard not to be happy for someone when they’re like that.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

They both fall quiet. Soonyoung listens hard, but he doesn’t know what he’s listening for. Birds chirping, outside chatter. Maybe if Jihoon thinks loud enough, he’ll be able to make it out.

Soonyoung’s not a mind reader though, so he just asks, “What about you? Hopeless romantic, or no? Emphases on _hopeless_.” Jihoon snorts.

“I mean, sure. I like that sort of thing.”

“You do?”

“Is that surprising?”

Soonyoung frowns, blinking. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it much.”

“No one’s ever asked, actually, but yeah. I’m a sucker for all that sappy stuff. I think it’s cute.”

“I don’t think love really exists.”

A pause, just a beat of silence. Jihoon whistles.

“Whew, okay, damn.”

“Sorry.”

The boy laughs, but it sounds short, cut off at the end and a little awkward. “For what? I’m not offended, Soonyoung. I won’t judge you for the way you think. I just haven’t heard anyone say that before.”

Soonyoung’s not usually one to hold back from speaking his mind, but something about this conversation has his skin itching, and he’d rather move on. He thinks he should get back to work. At least, if he’s preoccupied with something else, the quiet will be more comfortable; they can fall back into that flow they had going earlier. Jihoon can find something else to talk about.

“Can I ask, why do you think that?”

Or maybe not.

“I’ve seen too many relationships crash and burn to truly believe love lasts.”

“And I’ve seen enough relationships flourish to know that it can.”

Soonyoung looks at him pointedly, one brow quirked, but Jihoon doesn’t seem fazed by his skepticism. He says, “Whoever hurt you - I mean, I’m sorry about that, but don’t let it ruin your perception of love entirely. Maybe you weren’t happy, but that doesn’t mean other people can’t be. It doesn’t mean _you_ can’t be.”

“I’m happy as I am, thank you very much. And, for the record, no one hurt me.”

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

“No, and I don’t plan on it. Flings are fine, whatever, I’ll do those for fun - but serious romance isn’t really my thing.” Jihoon doesn’t quite respond. His eyes get all far-away, traveling from Soonyoung’s face to some invisible point in the distance, and he doesn’t say anything. Soonyoung coughs. “Have you?”

“Hm. Not really, no.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never gotten close enough to anyone. Not enough to want to date them, at least.” Quietly then, he adds, “I think it would be nice, though.”

“I hope you get it,” Soonyoung says,and he’s being honest. “I might be pretty pessimistic when it comes to these things, but you seem like a good kid. You deserve something nice.”

Jihoon’s voice is feather-light, a slow drop through the air and a gentle landing when he says, just softly, “Thanks. You do, too.”

When Soonyoung thinks about it, takes into account everything Wonwoo’s ever told him and all that he’s seen, he supposes it _is_ a bit extreme to call off love entirely. He’s met happy couples, he’s seen them go weeks and months and _years_ without so much as bending - and maybe that’s what’s keeping him so bitter. His parents took a shot, and they failed miserably. If they couldn’t have their happy ever after, why should anyone else? Who’s to say the same won’t happen to Soonyoung?

He just doesn’t think it’s worth the risk, really.

“I do,” Jihoon says. “I imagine heartbreak must be pretty bad, but it’s only natural. You live and you learn, you get over it, and then you have another chance to go out and find what really makes you happy.”

“You might be willing to make sacrifices, but I don’t think I am.” Jihoon shrugs.

“Listen, do what makes you happy, Soonyoung, but here’s my thing: it’s cool if you’re not interested in anyone, there’s nothing wrong with that, but don’t waste potential _._ If you ever find yourself falling for someone, if you ever have the opportunity to _have_ someone and to love them and be loved back - man, don’t blow that. Don’t throw something like that away just because you’re scared of what might go wrong.” Jihoon exhales long and slow, turning his hands in his lap.

“I think it’s better to regret the things you did rather than the things you didn’t do.”

And alright, Soonyoung thinks. Maybe that’s something worth considering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insert me acting like i didn’t abandon this fic for a whole ass 2 months ,, 
> 
> sksdkjk no but for real im really sorry about that !!!! i’ve been working thru some issues with motivation and writer’s block and it’s reaaallyy taken a toll on my workflow, so this took me fucking forever to crank out - but it’s here now ! i’m still trying to get back into the swing of things, so apologies if my writing isn’t at 100% or if the updates continue to be really slow, but i promise i’m trying my best !! thanks all for being patient ;((


	3. act 3

➴ **scene 1**

 

 **SOONYOUNG CAN HEAR** the gravel under his feet, his soles rubbing noisily against the grain and then quieting suddenly when he stops in his tracks. The steam from his cup fogs up his lenses, and he rubs it away, blinking. “Christ,” his voice carries over the few feet between them, “what are you doing out here?”

Jihoon raises his head slowly, glancing around before noticing the other boy. He squints. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Okay, but I asked first.”

He slides over to make more room for Soonyoung on the bench, setting his paper on his lap with an eraser to anchor it. “Just drawing,” he says simply.

“It’s ass o’clock in the morning,” Soonyoung remarks.

“Yeah, but the sky’s pretty when it’s this early. And like, I couldn’t sleep.” Soonyoung hums, tilting his cup towards him. Jihoon takes it with a nod and sips before handing it back.

“Same, actually. I had to stay up writing this bitch of a paper - why the fuck I’m writing papers in art school, I don’t know - and couldn’t fall back asleep once I finished.”

“Yeah, and the best thing to do when you can’t sleep is to go out and get yourself a coffee, right?”

“I never claimed to make good decisions,” he says, and Jihoon snorts.

Soonyoung surveys the scene in front of him while the other goes back to drawing, pencil sliding on paper and the occasional sound of his eraser rubbing. They’re sitting close enough for the shavings to fall on Soonyoung’s lap, but he doesn’t mention it.

Jihoon’s right, the sky _is_ pretty at this time. There’s something about this hour that shades everything in blue, something light and breezy, as opposed to whatever sunshine yellow the rest of the day has to offer; the transition between 4 and 7am is almost candy-like, Soonyoung thinks he could eat the clouds.

“That’s impossible.”

“I know, dumbass, I was being poetic.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t go for a degree in literature.”

Soonyoung and Jihoon have spent more and more time in each other’s company over the last few weeks, running into each other more often, sending more texts and hang-out invitations (after Soonyoung harassed him for three days straight asking for his number). Most of them go along the lines of _I’m alone and working on a project, wanna talk?_ or _I’m in a slump and the last thing I want to do is work, please distract me._ Soonyoung’s pretty good at that - distracting.

But this is the first time, he thinks, that they’ve been so secluded. They often meet at cafes, in classrooms, splayed out on the grass in the park, always around other people; and this is still them, still the same dynamic, but something feels a little different when they’re all alone like this. The mood feels a little more stripped, fresh and laid bare. It gives him more space to think about the stuff he usually doesn’t.

Like Jihoon, who Soonyoung sees often enough but never regards as a particularly significant figure in his life. Soonyoung doesn’t tend to dedicate a lot of his conscience to the people he knows - Wonwoo’s been his best friend since high school, but the only time Soonyoung really _thinks_ about him is when he’s actually present, or brought up in conversation.

“I should think more,” he says - ironically - without thinking. Jihoon laughs.

“Yeah, put what little brainpower you have to the test.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Mm, I don’t think I do.”

“I mean, like, I don’t really think about people. I think about stuff that’s going on, whatever plans I might have or what I’m doing at the moment, but I don’t spend a lot of time considering others. I kind of just say and do whatever. It’s like, ‘I really like so-and-so’s outfit today,’ but never ‘I wonder how this person is doing,’ you know?”

“Well … you should. You start to realize a lot when you spend more time trying to understand things.”

“Huh,” Soonyoung takes another sip of his coffee, feeling warm. “I guess so.”

So he tries it, taking advantage of the silence when Jihoon falls back into his work, regarding him.

What does he know about Jihoon? He knows that he’s shy, he’s quiet, almost always enveloped in his art; Soonyoung knows that Jihoon is a romantic and a lot wiser than he might let on, and that he doesn’t give himself nearly enough credit for what he’s good at. Jihoon’s reserved but surprisingly witty and interesting to talk to once he opens up, and Soonyoung likes being around him. He feels content when they’re together.

Soundlessly, with his cheek resting in the palm of his hand, he turns to look at the boy beside him.

It hits him again, just like last time, but maybe a little more forcefully; the tangle of Jihoon’s eyelashes, the curve of his jawline. His bottom lip caught between his teeth and red from the pressure. What little light the sky has to offer hits his cheekbone and highlights it, kind of pretty - pretty, pretty, pretty.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” Soonyoung croons. Jihoon flushes.

“I don’t, no.”

“Well, you are.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing, just stating facts.”

“I think that’s more of an opinion, actually.”

Soonyoung smiles, something small and meek in contrast to his usual grin. “I’d like to see you try and find _one_ person who doesn’t think you’re beautiful, Jihoon. I can bet anything you wouldn’t.”

The blush deepens, going from a shy shade of pink to something violently crimson, and Jihoon pushes out a weak scoff. “Yeah, well. It’s still an opinion.”

“You told me to spend more time thinking, and this is what I came up with.”

“Think about something else, then.”

“I’ll try.”

But he doesn’t try, not really. He’s got something to focus his attention on, now, something other than comfortable silences and the coffee going cold in his hand, something other than airy conversation fillers. He’s got Jihoon, sitting next to him on full display.

He’s a portrait, come to think of it; caught in time and perfectly candid, rose-washed. Soonyoung thinks Jihoon lives in shades of blue-pink-purple, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon is the prettiest sky. Soonyoung thinks he never used to have a favorite color but he’s surely getting there, and the morning moon has never been so comforting to see.

Soonyoung looks at Jihoon, and he stops thinking. He notices the roughness of his fingers and the way they’ve always got ink smudges on them, clay or some other. When they sit together, Soonyoung smells cotton and rose water. When they sit together he knows, they fall natural.

It’s a petite feeling, a fond inkling crawling up his spine. It’s there when they brush shoulders, sits right at the corner of his eye when Jihoon looks at him. Lingering touches and a splash of pastel hues. It’s a petite feeling, but it only seems to grow.

Soonyoung stops himself there. He’s bordering on something uncomfortable, he knows, and maybe ignorance is more bliss than anything.

 

➴ **scene 2**

 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Jihoon comments, packing his stuff back into his bag. Soonyoung stands and stretches his arms over his head, squinting now that the sun’s made her comeback for the day.

“Yeah,” he says, “my eyesight’s fucked. I wear contacts usually, but, uh, I wasn’t gonna waste the effort on an early morning coffee run.”

Soonyoung got them ages ago, large, thin round frames that perch gently on the bridge of his nose -  he always thought they made his eyes look a bit smaller, framed his face a bit too strangely for his liking. He tends to avoid wearing them, more often than not.

“They’re nice, actually. You look good in them.”

“Huh,” he pushes them up higher, “thanks.”

Neither of them has class for the next few hours, and there’s no suggestion of parting ways, so they just stick together for the rest of the morning. They waste time walking around campus and watching the world wake up, students ambling around, trees shaking with the breeze. It’s like someone wrapped a fist around them and gave everything a good shake, and there’s more energy than there was a few hours ago, more bustle.

Soonyoung pokes at Jihoon, prods him, tries to get more out of him than just _I spend 85% of my time painting, and the other 15% doing less important stuff._ It’s almost like a challenge, he thinks. “What’s the less important stuff?” he asks. “You gotta have more than one interest.”

“Do I?”

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t - I don’t know what to tell you. I just don’t do much. I have a few close friends, I guess? But I don’t really like talking to people, and I don’t like doing stuff that forces me into any sort of social interaction - “

“Jesus Christ, you’re antisocial.”

“No! I mean, well, yeah. But I’m happy with that. Having to be around others all the time is kind of exhausting, it wears me out. I like doing stuff alone.”

“Stuff such as … ?”

Jihoon gives him a pointed look, one that’s probably supposed to be taken as a warning, but Soonyoung fears very little and Jihoon’s energy isn’t particularly threatening to him, so he ignores it.

Instead of answering him, Jihoon asks, “Why don’t I get to hear about you? What are _you_ interested in?” Soonyoung thinks.

“Alright, well … I like art, obviously. I like watching movies, I like dancing. Video games are fine, but Wonwoo always kicks my ass when I play with him. What else … ?” He pauses for a moment, taking time to sift through his different hobbies and pick out whatever he thinks is worth mentioning.

“I like being with my friends,” he says, finally. “Whether we’re going to a party or studying, or just hanging out - that makes me happy. I like talking to you, too.”

“Too?” Jihoon laughs a little, but it comes out sounding flustered. “I thought I _was_ one of your friends.”

“You are, but it’s different with you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love all my friends a lot - but I can be with them anytime, you know? It’s not super special, it just is.”

“And with me … ?”

“And with you … I don’t know, with you it feels like I should appreciate the moment more. Because you’re Jihoon, right? And you’re shy and you don’t like branching out and meeting new people, or talking, but you always give me the time of day, and that means something to me.”

There’s just a brief slip of silence, like a thin pink veil folding between them and muting them both for a moment, two moments, three - before it’s gone, and Soonyoung finds it in him to speak again.

“Is that weird? Sorry. I really do just like being around you.”

Jihoon’s voice is soft, and Soonyoung has to listen hard to hear when he says, “No, it’s not weird. I like being around you, too.”

Neither one of them says anything for a while after that, but it’s comfortable. They’re walking side by side with the quiet for company, and it’s comfortable.

 

➴ **scene 3**

 

Weeks pass slowly, languid. The days turn in and out through shades of orange and pink, and Soonyoung thinks he has too much time to catch it all. He doesn’t want to watch the sunset fall below the horizon, he wants to be too caught up in his own life to even notice it. Stopping to take in the beauty around him is a thing of an artist, something he should find comfort and inspiration in, but he’s really just getting sick of it.

“I’m bored,” he tells Minghao, one day. “I’m just making it day by day. It’s routine, at this point - do this assignment, meet with that professor, paint this and shade that. I listen to Wonwoo talk about his relationship like the good friend I am and call my mom at the end of every day.”

“You’re a good son, I’m sure she appreciates that.”

“I’m bored,” he says again.

Minghao sighs, and it blends between them. Soonyoung bunches the bedsheets in his fists and blows the hair out of his eyes, feels his heels sink into the mattress like they’re made entirely of lead. He sighs, and it blends between them. The air falls in layers. It’s stale.

As if on cue, Minghao says, “You should open a window every once in a while.”

“I should leave the city.”

“What?”

“I should just pack my shit and go.”

“No, I just told you to open a - “

“Everything is so _repetitive_ here,” Soonyoung rolls over onto his stomach and looks Minghao in the eye. He can feel the exasperation twisting his lips, feel it fog so thick between his bones that his entire body goes rigid. “You know, I was _so_ excited to leave home and come live out here. I thought everything would be bright and exciting, right? Fast-paced. But it all dies down after a while, I think.”

“You should visit home, then. Take a weekend off and go refresh yourself.” Soonyoung grimaces.

“Er, no. I wanted to leave for a reason. That’s still true.”

The thought of going back home makes him uncomfortable, like he just tried swallowing rocks and they’re going down slowly, painfully. The thought of going back home makes it a little hard to breathe, actually.

“Why?”

Well, there’s the annoying fact that Soonyoung has a tendency of remembering things too clearly; the fact that, as hard as he might try to seem otherwise, he cares a lot about everything and retains nearly all of it. The fact that most of his childhood was swathed in a horrible shade of constant arguing and shouting, with the exception of once or twice a week when he could hear his mom crying blue through the thin walls of their home. Soonyoung thinks of home, and the bad memories swallow up the good. Soonyoung thinks of home, and home is a little too broken for him to want to visit.

He sniffs, rubs his eyes and yawns. Simply, he says, “It’s just not my favorite place in the world.”

He says it simply, and Minghao doesn’t ask any more.

 

➴ **scene 4**

 

“Things are only boring if you let them be boring.” Soonyoung scoffs, and Wonwoo looks at him earnestly. “No, I mean it. You don’t _have_ to sit around doing the same thing every day, Soonyoung, you can go out there and make fun for yourself.”

“How?”

“I - I mean, I don’t know, but I’m sure you could.”

“I _could_ blow off school and go live in the forest for the rest of my life, you know, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to do so.”

“Or you could be a normal, reasonable person for two minutes and just hear me out - if you’re tired of the city, leave the city. You don’t have to go home, just go for a little while. You could make plans with your friends - “

“What are we doing right now?”

“ - I mean friends who aren’t me, Soonyoung. When’s the last time you saw Chan in person?” Soonyoung opens his mouth to argue, but Wonwoo cuts him off before he can even start - “Exactly. See, you _choose_ to get stuck in the same old cycle, and that’s not life’s fault, it’s yours.”

Soonyoung will admit that he’s grateful to have friends who are so blunt with him. He can be thick-headed and stubborn, and it takes someone who isn’t worried about hurting his feelings to pull his head out of his ass. It isn’t always the most pleasant experience, though. He scowls.

“I don’t choose to get stuck,” he argues. “I _do_ things for myself.”

“Like what?”

“Like - Like, I got lunch with Jihoon yesterday.”

“That doesn’t count, you get lunch with Jihoon almost every other day. It’s regular.”

“Well, I enjoy it way more than a lot of the other regular things in my life.”

Wonwoo snorts and rolls his eyes, but Soonyoung’s not even saying it to win - it’s true. He doesn’t hate his life, really, it’s just that he doesn’t get particularly excited about most things anymore. Seeing Jihoon, though, making plans and getting to spend time with him - well, that’s something he always looks forward to.

“And why’s that?” Wonwoo asks, eyeing him.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

“What is it about him?”

“Well, I mean … he’s different, I guess? I don’t know how he’s different, but he is, I can tell. He doesn’t talk very much - or, he _didn’t_ talk very much, but now he does. He used to be all quiet, but now when we meet up he’ll go on and on about whatever the hell, and I like that. He has a nice voice,” Soonyoung says, and he pauses at the look Wonwoo shoots him, “and he says interesting things.”

Wonwoo’s still giving him this look, this weird look where his eyes get kind of squinty and his nose scrunches just a little. Soonyoung’s got nothing to hide, but with that look trained on him, he feels suspect. He laughs a little.

“What?”

“What, what?”

“You’re looking at me funny.”

Wonwoo blinks, and just like that, it’s gone. “Am I? Sorry.”

Wonwoo’s got kind eyes, and there’s something gentle about his overall demeanor which makes him so comfortable to be around. He’s always so patient and so tolerant, one of the few people who are willing to take Soonyoung’s shit and still stick with him. Soonyoung doesn’t think he appreciates it enough.

“You know,” he says, “I’ve been making an effort to think more. Like, to be more appreciative, because I don’t think I am very often.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I take you for granted sometimes, and I don’t even realize it. I was talking to Jihoon about it and - and he said something I thought was interesting, he said, ‘You start to realize a lot when you spend more time trying to understand things.’”

“Oh, wow. So he’s Socrates, too?”

“Shut up, asshole. What I _mean_ is that I think he was right, and I think I don’t spend enough time trying to take things - you, in this case - into consideration. Like, feelings and stuff. But when I _do_ take them into consideration, it’s like, whoa, Wonwoo really puts up with me on a daily basis, and I’ve never said thank you for it. So, yeah. Thank you.”

Soonyoung exhales and matches Wonwoo’s eye - the latter’s looking at him, half blank and half amused, and he says, “I don’t expect any sort of thanks, Soonyoung. You’re my best friend, it doesn’t matter how much of a pain in the ass you are sometimes, of course I’m always gonna be here for you. That’s just how it is.” Wonwoo pauses, and Soonyoung watches the thought pass behind his eyes. He says, “All I ask is that you do the same for me.”

And suddenly, not-so-inexplicably, Soonyoung feels even guiltier than before.


	4. act 4

➴ **scene 1**

 

 **SOONYOUNG’S LEG BOUNCING** over the tile floor, the loud sound he makes when he sips the last of his milkshake through a straw. Retro 80s music playing over the diner’s loudspeaker. Jihoon watching him with some look of disgust.

“Okay, Soonyoung. Jesus.”

“You said my name twice.”

“No, shut up.” Soonyoung grins wide, and his laughter comes out half-silent, like a breathy outline, when Jihoon says, “Your drink is finished, cut it out.”

“Does the noise annoy you?”

“ _You_ annoy me.”

“Hm,” Soonyoung pretends to think, pursing his lips and rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “I don’t know, Jihoon. I feel like that’s a lie.” That earns him a hard kick from under the table. He winces and leans down to rub his ankle while Jihoon watches him, smile looking proud. Soonyoung mutters, “Unnecessary.”

Jihoon had asked him for dinner earlier that evening - “I’ve been working on my grid portrait for three hours straight, and if I don’t find a reason to get away from it soon, I think I’ll actually go into paralysis,” is what he’d said, but Soonyoung likes to think that the art itself was the excuse Jihoon was looking for.

“You can ask to see me just because, you know. You don’t need a particular reason for it.”

“No, but I - “

“I would love to get dinner with you, Jihoon,” he’d interrupted, feeling his smile up to his eyes. “And I don’t have anything to get away from, I’d just like to see you.” Soonyoung suggested the little diner off-campus, and so things went.

Through a mouthful of fries, he asks, “Tell me about your grid portrait. What is it?”

“I have to do this massive ass self-portrait, and paint it using a grid. So, like, paint the different squares in a way that won't make the overall piece look like ass.”

“Huh. Fun.”

“No, not fun. It’s taking me forever to do, and I hate portraits. They’re so … “ Jihoon makes a sort of face, something between disgust and a scowl, “blegh.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Too difficult, having to get every particular feature right. It’s not like - like painting the rest of the world, I can make a small mistake, and that’s okay, because the world is full of mistakes, and I can take that and turn it into something pretty. If I fuck up trying to paint someone’s actual face, though … I mean, it’s an innacuracy. It throws the whole painting off.” He takes a bite of his burger and adds, mumbled around the sound of him trying to chew and talk at the same time, “I also get tired of looking at the same face for hours on end.”

“You should paint me,” Soonyoung winks, enjoying the way Jihoon’s cheeks flush almost immediately. “You can’t get tired of a face like mine.” Jihoon grumbles.

“You’re too confident.”

They go on like that, joking back and forth and sharing sentiments, and it occurs to Soonyoung, at some point, just how warm he feels; it’s an odd kind of comfort, buzzing underneath his skin like his insides are carbonated. They talk about the things they have in common, and that’s nice, it always is, but what gets Soonyoung is when they talk about the stuff they don’t.

Like when Jihoon gets started on his childhood, and how he got into art. He tells how, when he was a kid, his mom would hang up all his art projects around their home. He tells Soonyoung how his parents encouraged every little thing he did, whether it was a clay sculpture or a noodle on a string, and they only ever pushed him forward in what he wanted to do. “And my mom would always say this thing, you know, whenever I was feeling down because I couldn’t get something right - especially in high school when I started taking art more seriously - she’d be like … paint everything with love, Jihoon, because love is the warmest color, and it can make anything look beautiful.” Jihoon pauses, looking shy all of a sudden. He says, “I took it to heart, you know. Thinking like that always helped.

“So now, it doesn’t matter what it is - that stupid grid portrait, even - if I’m working on it, I’m giving it my all. I want to really love whatever I’m making. If I love it, then it’s already going to seem ten times better when I look at it. Even if it’s actually garbage. Which, uh. I hope none of my art is.”

It isn’t until Jihoon coughs, eyes stuck to his plate and fiddling with his fork, that Soonyoung realizes he’s been staring. “Does that sound silly?” he asks. “Probably.” Soonyoung blinks.

“What? No, not at all! I just … Dang, that must’ve been so nice. They really backed you up on everything.” Jihoon nods.

“Yeah, I’m grateful. I honestly think I owe it to my parents, being able to seriously pursue this and - and actually go to school for it. It wasn’t just some little hobby to them, they knew how much it meant to me.”

“Love is the warmest color,” Soonyoung repeats, just quietly. He can see the tips of Jihoon’s ears tinged pink. “That’s really wonderful. I’m happy for you, Jihoon.”

There’s this weird twist in Soonyoung’s chest, then. Envy. Warm and sickly green, sliding down his throat and pooling in his stomach, leaving him queasy. He feels bad for it. Jihoon didn’t do anything wrong and Soonyoung can’t help the way things happened, there’s no use in feeling jealous - but he does, anyway.

“What about you?” Jihoon asks. “If you - If you don’t mind me asking.”

Soonyoung has to restrain himself from cringing, memories bubbling up involuntarily. What’s the opposite of what Jihoon just described, and how’s he going to explain that without making himself sound pitiful?

“Well,” he starts, and he tries to keep his tone light, “I’m sorry to say it isn’t as pleasant of a story as yours. My family was more … I guess, I guess they just weren’t all that interested in what I did. It’s not that they ever _discouraged_ me from doing art, but. I mean, they didn’t even know I was serious about it until I was seventeen years old and I told them I wanted to go to an arts school. So what does that tell you?” Jihoon’s quiet.

“I didn’t dedicate myself to my art because I had endless support from the people around me. It was the opposite - I didn’t have any support, I didn’t really have anyone. I couldn’t dedicate myself to people, so I used art as a substitute.”

“Man, I’m sorry.”

 _Oh, don’t say that_ , is what Soonyoung thinks. He feels bad enough talking about it, taking his issues and projecting them onto someone else. Being a subject for sympathy only makes him feel worse.

“Don’t be,” he smiles wryly. “Things worked out. I got into this school, I’m doing what I love. I’ve actually made some great friends in the process.” _I’m happy with my life_ , is what he almost says, but then he realizes that he isn’t actually sure how true that is. He doesn’t want to lie. Instead, he says, “It made me the way I am today, right? Silver linings.”

“I suppose,” Jihoon says slowly. “I suppose you’re right. I like the way you are, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung feels fuzzy, sweet.

“There’s this quote, something some poet once said - ‘attention is the beginning of devotion.’ Have you heard that before?” The way he says it, the implication of it, makes Soonyoung sound like he’s almost joking. Jihoon only smiles a little bit.

“That’s a truism, isn’t it? Well, I don’t know about devotion, but I can definitely say that you’ve caught my attention, Soonyoung. Congratulations.”

It’s light, tongue-in-cheek, and he knows it’s not anything to take seriously, but Soonyoung really can’t help beaming a little bit. He’s got Jihoon’s attention. He can’t explain why that makes him happy the way it does.

 

➴ **scene 2**

 

“Fuck this.”

“Hell yeah, Soonyoung. That’s the spirit.”

“Shut up. You don’t know my struggles.” Soonyoung scoffs, turning the page in his textbook and feeling his heart fall when he sees all the words. “Music major - shit, I should’ve been a music major. How hard can it be to produce music?” Vernon looks at him pointedly.

“I came here to help you study, out of the kindness of my own heart. I could leave now, if you’d like me to.” Soonyoung chokes.

“Wait, no - ! I take it back, producing is hard. Please stay with me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I had to take a music theory exam last week.”

“Sounds more interesting than art history.”

“To give you an idea of what it was like, I considered stabbing myself with a pen to get out of class.”

“Oh.”

Soonyoung has an exam tomorrow - and, of course, he left studying for the last minute. He was sort of counting on the fact that Jihoon would be available at a moment’s notice to accompany him at the library (Jihoon is a fantastic study buddy, as it seems - he always gets Soonyoung his coffee refills and helps him memorize stuff, reads out of his textbook for him), but when he called the boy had told him that he was actually busy working on his painting, and _trust me, I would love nothing more than to help you study right now, but this bitch portrait is due tomorrow and I’m far from finished._

“I knew I could count on you,” Soonyoung says to Vernon, thinking of Jihoon. “Like, seriously, thanks for helping me out.”

“It’s no problem. You should, uh, probably work on your procrastination habits, though.”

“You’re right, but I’m actually doing great right now. Did you know that the, uh - “ he glances at the header in his book “ - the Neolithic revolution occurred during the Prehistoric Era? Super cool stuff.” Vernon coughs.

“Sounds like it.”

Soonyoung manages to get through two pages of information and one hand cramp from writing notes before he’s interrupted - or, rather, Vernon is interrupted. Seeing as Vernon is the one reading out of his book for him, this extends to Soonyoung.

“Vern - !” Someone Soonyoung’s never met before bounds over, immediately quieting when Vernon shushes him. “Oh, right, sorry,” he whispers.

“You’re a little early,” Vernon checks the time on his phone, and the boy pulls out a chair for himself and sits down. He grins.

“Yeah, but I was out, and I knew you’d be at the library and the coffee shop is just a few blocks down. I figured I’d keep you company, and - oh!” he interrupts himself, eyes flashing over to Soonyoung. “Meet your friend! You should introduce us.”

“Uh, Soonyoung, this is Seungkwan. We were gonna go for coffee later.”

Seungkwan looks friendly enough - he’s got the kind of face that makes Soonyoung think he can do no wrong, right off the bat. He rests his face in both his hands and watches Soonyoung kindly, with full, pink cheeks sitting on a bright smile. His eyes go wide.

“Soonyoung? You’re Jihoon’s friend, right?”

“Er, yeah. I am.” Vernon looks at him curiously.

“You are? I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t - I mean, do you know Jihoon?”

“Not all that well, but he’s good friends with Seungkwan, so.”

“He talks about you all the time,” Seungkwan says, eyes shining, and Soonyoung doesn’t miss the way Vernon pinches his side. “I mean, like, all good things. He doesn’t bitch about you or anything. He just talks about you a lot.” Vernon pinches him again. “Ow, what the fuck?”

He sets his pencil down, notes and studying forgotten for the moment, and feels his smile widening. It stretches across his face and carries a little warmth with it, and he says, “Oh, really? What does he say, exactly?”

“Seungkwan,” Vernon warns, and Soonyoung smacks him on the arm.

“No, shut up, let him speak.”

Seungkwan only looks amused, eyes darting between the two of them and carrying a silent laughter in them, like the whole thing is funny. It kind of is, Soonyoung thinks. He can’t wait to bring it up to Jihoon later. Picturing it now, he can imagine it perfectly: something along the lines of red cheeks, red ears, red nose, eyes blinking hard and fast and a smile that twitches embarrassed. Soonyoung smiles to himself.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Seungkwan points at him, and Soonyoung feels a bit like a child with the way he says it. “It’s nothing wild. He just thinks you’re really great - funny, smart, whatever.”

“Soonyoung’s really outgoing,” Vernon supplies.

“I figured. Don’t see how else Jihoon would’ve ever met you, he’s so shy.”

“How did you meet him, actually?”

Both pairs of eyes are focusing on him, now, and Soonyoung laughs a little, thumbing the pages of his notebook. He glances down and sees that he managed to smudge some of ink from his notes. “Well,” he starts, “I just thought he seemed interesting. Wonwoo told me he’s real quiet. So, naturally I went over to bother him while he was working.”

“Poor thing,” Vernon says. Soonyoung ignores him.

“I did it enough for us to actually get to know each other. And now … yeah. That’s it, pretty much. How do you know him?”

“I had to perform a song a while back for one of my performance evaluations, and he played the piano for the song I chose. We ended up doing a few practices together, and I’m really likeable, so. It’s hard to _not_ be my friend.” Vernon scoffs.

“Seungkwan’s just as annoying as you Soonyoung.”

“Really?”

Silence, for a moment. Vernon looks at him.

“Actually, no. He’s _almost_ as annoying as you.”

“I invited him out to lunch a few times, and Jihoon is really nice,” Seungkwan relents. “But it worked out! Because we actually get along really well.”

“He bullies you a lot,” Vernon says.

“Yes, but he does it with love.”

They continue talking, Soonyoung getting to know Seungkwan a little better - a student in the music department, double-majoring in communications and music performance - but no more than an hour passes before Soonyoung decides he’s done trying to study, he’s not getting anywhere with it. “You two can go do your thing, I’m gonna pack up. Thanks for helping me out, though.” Vernon nods.

“Yeah, ‘course. Good luck tomorrow.”

 

➴ **scene 3**

 

Soonyoung stares at his phone screen, biting the inside of his cheek. He FaceTimed Jihoon maybe two hours earlier, _because I want to talk, and I haven’t seen you once today_ , and neither one of them is saying anything at the present moment, but he doesn’t mind. He’s content just watching Jihoon work.

The camera’s angled so Soonyoung can only see part of his face, tongue poking out slightly and his eyes set hard while he focuses on painting, and Soonyoung laughs a little when he swears softly. “This is going to take me all night,” he says. The shadows on his face shift under the lamplight in his room, but Soonyoung can see another set of shadows, cold and unmoving under his eyes.

“Please go to bed at a decent time tonight. I feel like you haven’t been sleeping enough, lately.”

“Ha, whatever. I’ll be fine.” Jihoon pauses, and then, just quietly, he asks, “Is it noticeable?”

“A little bit. You seem tired, a lot.”

Jihoon sighs, but he doesn’t really respond. Instead, he asks, “Wanna see what it’s like so far?” and Soonyoung nods.

It’s not much of a surprise at all, but it’s really, really good. Just faintly, he can see the graphite lines drawn over the canvas, breaking it up into squares, and each square is filled in neatly with color. He mixes shades, lines of blue and green and yellow all set within one square, patterned out nicely so that when you look at it from afar, it fits like a beautiful sort of puzzle. Of course, it’s Jihoon’s face, not a feature out of place.

“What do you think?” Jihoon’s voice comes from behind the camera. “Be honest, but if you say you don’t like it, I might start crying.”

“It’s amazing,” Soonyoung breathes, without missing a beat, “as expected. One bit of criticism, however - “ he can hear Jihoon’s sharp inhale, and grins with what he’s about to say “ - it’s not nearly as pretty as the real thing. Then again, I don’t think anything really could be.”

There’s nothing, for a minute, not a word. The camera seems to shake a little in Jihoon’s hand before he turns it around, and Soonyoung can see his whole face, shaded entirely bashful. “Shut the hell up, Soonyoung,” is what he says, and Soonyoung laughs.

“For real, though, it looks incredible. You’ve done a great job.”

A little later, when Jihoon looks like he’s about to nod off and he still hasn’t finished, Soonyoung says, “I met Seungkwan, today,” and that seems to wake him up.

“Oh, what?”

“Yeah. I was studying with Vernon, and I guess Vernon’s friends with him? And he came over, and we talked a bit and - and yeah.”

Jihoon’s eyebrows are knit and he’s chewing his lip, and he asks, “What was he like?”

“Nice kid, he’s sort of funny … he said you talk about me a lot.” Jihoon freezes like a deer caught in headlights, paintbrush caught delicately between his fingers, and Soonyoung barks out a laugh. “He said you think I’m funny, and smart - “ Jihoon groans and puts his head in his hands, and when he looks up Soonyoung can see a bit of white paint smudged under his eye. He doesn’t mention it.

“I’ll actually break his arm,” Jihoon says, “mouthy idiot. He talks too much.”

Soonyoung’s chest rattles with laughter and his face starts to hurt a bit, his smile stretched so wide it makes his cheeks ache. “Come on, I thought it was cute.”

“Cute?”

“Sweet, I thought it was sweet. You’re _endearing_ , Jihoon.”

They stare at each other; Soonyoung can see himself in the corner of his screen, looking a little too giddy, and Jihoon frowns at him. “You’re too excited about this. It’s nothing.”

“What can I say, I like attention.”

Jihoon makes a sound at the back of his throat, focusing back on the canvas in front of him rather than responding, and Soonyoung thinks, for a second. He thinks about what he’s just said.

It’s easy to make jokes and laugh about the little things, but more than just attention, Soonyoung thinks he likes the idea of Jihoon talking about him even when he’s not around. He likes attention, but he really likes it when it’s coming from Jihoon.

Huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends !! just quickly i wanted to mention something -
> 
> these first few chapters have mainly been to show the progression of jihoon and soonyoung's friendship before any sort of romantic feelings are introduced, and i wanted to say sorry if that's felt a little boring at times !! it seems a bit slow so far, but i do plan on having things pick up the pace a little in the next chapter. given soonyoung's character and his overall feelings towards the idea of love, it just wouldn't be super realistic if i had him fall for jihoon right away lol


	5. act 5

➴  **scene 1**

 

**SOONYOUNG LIKES THE** dip of Jihoon’s collarbone, he likes the shadow slipping between it, his hands working the palette with an expert sort of ease and his knuckles turned pink from concentration and from cold. Soonyoung likes the look on his face when he focuses really hard, but he likes it even more when it softens, when he focuses less on his work and more on Soonyoung.

“Don’t think about it too much,” is what he says, and Soonyoung squints, confused. “Your exam,” Jihoon clarifies. “I’m sure you did better than you think.”

“Oh. Do I look like I’m worried?”

“You look like you’re thinking, but don’t get too into your own head about it - unless you were thinking about something else - ?”

_ You _ , Soonyoung’s brain supplies.  _ I was thinking about you. Jesus, you’re pretty.  _ He almost hits himself - he really should stop - but he just smiles, instead. “Nah, I’m not stressing. I mean, I probably bombed it, but I’ll be fine. It’s only one grade.” Jihoon hums.

“Wish I could think a little more like that. I - I think I go a little too hard on myself when things don’t go well. Like, grades, I mean.”

“Wait,  _ you _ , a little too hard on yourself?” Soonyoung’s eyes go comically wide and he sits up, feigning seriousness. “No way. Doesn’t sound realistic.” Jihoon laughs softly.

“Crazy, I know.”

They’re in Jihoon’s dorm, squeezed between cramped walls and furniture and the hoard of knick-knacks Jihoon has collected over time. Looking at him only, Soonyoung would have assumed he’s the type to keep super neat, organized minimalist with everything kept tidy and in place. Jihoon’s living space says the exact opposite.

“I’m not dirty,” is what he’d said the first time Soonyoung stepped past his door. “Like, everything’s  _ clean _ . There’s just … a lot of stuff. Everywhere.”

Like random, paint-stained jars hidden in corners and left on shelves, books scattered here and there with the pages torn out (Jihoon says he used them for a collage project, but a lot of the scraps ended up being tucked between Marvel figurines and textbooks); there are brushes sitting here and there and pastels, palettes, colored pencils and even chalk laying about. Soonyoung’s taken it upon himself to spread out over the only clear space in the room - the bed, effectively forcing Jihoon to work on the floor. He’s sitting on a pillow with his canvas propped up against the leg of his desk.

“You choose to live like this,” Soonyoung had told him when he complained. “And I’m a guest, so. I’m allowed to be more comfortable than you.” Jihoon didn’t put up much of a fight after that.

He says, “I just can’t help thinking about my parents, you know,” and it takes Soonyoung a moment to realize that they’re still talking about grades. “It took a lot out of them, getting me into this school. I feel like I gotta make them proud, make it worth all the sacrifice.”

“You know they’re always proud of you, no matter what,” Soonyoung says, and it almost comes out bitter - almost. “A low score every once in a while isn’t going to change that.”

“I guess … but I still worry. Especially at times like these - I’m visiting home next week, y’know? I want to be able to spend time with them and tell them how good I’m doing, and I want to mean it.” Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung tsks.

“Trust me, you’re going to be just fine. You’re a model student and an insanely talented artist, you don’t have much of a choice  _ but _ to impress them.” He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice has gone softer, somehow. “It’s nice that you’ll be seeing them.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Nice that you get to leave the city, too,” Soonyoung adds. “I wish I had someplace to go. I feel like I’m choking, here. Like I’ve spent too much time couped up in one area and all the oxygen is running out.”

“Go someplace, then.”

Soonyoung sighs, “Nah. I wouldn’t know where - and I wouldn’t want to be totally lonely, either. Nearly all my friends are going to be spending the break with their families or whatever, so it’s not like I could ask any of them to keep me company.”

Jihoon’s quiet for a while, and Soonyoung just assumes that he’s gone back to working. After a few minutes pass, though, he glances over to see that the boy isn’t even moving; he’s got the tip of his brush stuck where it was in the middle of mixing two colors, and the end of it pressed against his bottom lip. He’s thinking.

Finally, slowly, he says, “Well … you could come to Busan with me, if you want.” Soonyoung, caught off guard by the offer, has to take a minute to process it, and Jihoon reddens in his silence. He stammers, “But, I mean - er, only if you want, obviously. Uh. I get it, if you don’t want to, but I just thought - “

“Busan’s really pretty,” Soonyoung interrupts. “Especially in spring. I bet it’d be so nice … but your parents. They probably don’t want to take on an extra houseguest.”

Jihoon dismisses his concern quickly - “No, they’d love to have you. Trust me.”

“You said it yourself, though. It’s been a while since you got to spend time with them. I don’t want to intrude on that.”

Jihoon’s words come soft, bouncing on the edge of a quiet laugh. He sets his stuff down and moves so that he’s resting against the side of his bookshelf, looking up at Soonyoung from under his lashes. “You wouldn’t be,” he says. “I’d like to have you there.”

Soonyoung has to give it some thought - but not much, not really. Something about collarbones, he thinks. Hands and knuckles and pink, pink,  _ Christ, one of them should turn off the A.C., it’s freezing in here. _ Jihoon concentrating and the way his eyes harden when he analyzes his own work, the way they seem to melt when he turns to look at Soonyoung, instead. Soonyoung thinks.

He thinks Busan sounds lovely this time of year and even lovelier with Jihoon in it.

“Alright then,” he says after some time. “I think I’d love to go.”

 

➴  **scene 2**

 

“Busan, eh?” Wonwoo looks at him skeptically, eyes peeking over his glasses. “You know, I haven’t met Mingyu’s family, yet.” Soonyoung is slow to answer, distracted by the origami bird he’s currently trying to fold - failing to, really. He crumples the paper and grabs for a new one.

“What’s your point?” he asks, starting fresh.

“I dunno. I started dating him pretty close to the time you met Jihoon.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that I’m moving fast, save it. I’m only meeting his parents. I’ve met your parents, haven’t I?”

“We’ve been friends for two years, though. It’s different.”

“He invited me. What was I supposed to do, say no?” Wonwoo scoffs, but doesn’t say anything. He just carries on folding, helping Soonyoung with the origami and glancing at the instruction booklet every now and then. “What?” Soonyoung asks.

“Nothing,” is what he says, but the knowing little smile on his face tells Soonyoung that it’s definitely  _ something _ . “Just - “ he laughs “ - don’t act like you’re trying to do Jihoon some sort of favor, Soonyoung. You know how you are. If you didn’t want to go, you would’ve said so. You said yes because you wanted to. And, uh. I get the feeling you’re not just in it for Busan’s scenery.”

“And what does  _ that _ mean?”

“It  _ means _ that I think a part of you is just looking for the chance to spend more time with Jihoon.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Soonyoung can see Wonwoo pause, fingers freezing in place with the paper delicately caught between them. He’s peering over at Soonyoung curiously, like he’s waiting for something, and the latter isn’t quite sure what.

“What?” he asks, almost defensive. “So what if I am?”

Wonwoo blinks, mouth caught in a surprised sort of  _ o _ before spreading out into a smile. He straightens, continues working. Clears his throat. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all.”

 

➴  **scene 3**

 

The days seem to pass too slowly, as if they could get any slower than before, and Soonyoung’s just counting down the minutes until the time he steps on to the train. He’s impatient and itching to make it out of the city, go someplace he hasn’t been before with the kindest sort of company; kind, really, because they’re waiting for the train now and Jihoon hasn’t snapped at him once to shut up, even though he’s been talking nonstop for an hour at least.

“It sucked at first,” he’s saying, “because I kept tearing the paper or folding it the wrong way, and once you have enough creases in the wrong spots it starts to look ugly, so then you have to start all over. Wonwoo was real good at it, though. He’s the type for it, more patient than I am. He made all these pretty swans and flowers, and even once I managed to get the hang of it, he was still way better … “

The smile doesn’t seem to leave Jihoon’s face, and part of Soonyoung is wondering why - he’s self-aware enough to know that any regular person would’ve gotten tired of hearing his voice, by now - but most of him is still too focused on finishing his sentences, so he doesn’t pay it too much mind. Jihoon just smiles soft and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. Occasionally, he offers Soonyoung some of his tea.

It’s the prettier part of morning, and Soonyoung can’t help being reminded of that time they spent together on the bench, back on campus. Fresh air and clouds colored creamy, like fluffy white dollops scattered throughout the sky. He thinks this is his favorite sort of setting, at least for the two of them. Even with his mouth running a mile a minute, things seem quiet. The world seems to go crisp and peaceful in their wake, like it’s settling down just for the two of them. He notices the way Jihoon’s hair sticks up at odd angles and how the sleeves of his sweater fall a good few inches past his fingertips, and the boy flushes a little when Soonyoung points it out.

“Bigger sweaters are comfier,” he whines. “I wanna be comfortable when I travel.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing! I think it makes you look even cuter.”

Soonyoung has enough time to crack a smile at the look on Jihoon’s face, before he lowers his head in his hands and groans, “You’re shameless.”

The train arrives shortly after, and the two of them make their way on and find their seats with time to spare. Soonyoung, a genius in his own mind, brought an extra bag filled with nothing but snacks. Jihoon laughs when he sees it.

“The ride is only like, two and a half hours.”

“I’ve seen the way you eat, Jihoon, sue me for thinking ahead.”

As it turns out, Jihoon doesn’t eat very much at all out of what Soonyoung packed - he conks out about twenty minutes into the ride, and spends most of his time from there on sleeping with his head against Soonyoung’s shoulder. Once or twice he wakes up and mumbles out some sleepy apology - “Sorry, I’m leaving you all on your own” - but Soonyoung just pats his head gently and hushes him back to sleep. A shame, because Soonyoung took a good half an hour roaming the convenience store and trying to find Jihoon’s favorites - but also not much of a shame at all, because Jihoon looks delicate and calm when he’s sleeping, and his weight against Soonyoung is actually kind of comforting, in a way. They can always eat later, anyway.

“How much time is left ‘till we get off?” The words are mumbled, lazily pushed past his lips and just barely understandable.

“About fifteen more minutes,” Soonyoung says. He glances sideways to see the top of Jihoon’s head, still messy and tousled. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, no … I’ve been up for a few minutes, I think. Do you want me to move? I can - “

“It’s fine,” Soonyoung assures him. “You’re fine.”

Outside, the grass is green and lush, and every now and then Soonyoung spots a blur of yellow from a patch of dandelions passing by. Without thinking about it too much, pulls up his phone camera and captures a photo of the scenery. “It’s pretty out there,” he says. “I bet you could paint something like it.” Jihoon makes an incoherent, murmuring noise in response, and nuzzles further against Soonyoung before dozing off again.

 

➴  **scene 4**

 

Jihoon’s parents meet them at the station, and Soonyoung tries his very best to make a better impression than he typically does - Wonwoo’s voice plays like a record in his mind:  _ be polite, smile, tell them how wonderful their son is, and for God’s sake, don’t talk so much.  _ Soonyoung’s not too good at that last one, but it seems to work to his advantage; Jihoon’s parents ask him all sorts of questions on the drive back to their house, and he’s got plenty to say keep the atmosphere from going still.

“You’re good at this,” Jihoon murmurs at one point during a lull in the conversation. “I can tell that they like you.”

“You think so?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nods, nudging Soonyoung with his elbow. “What’s not to like?”

The ride passes smoothly enough, and when Soonyoung isn’t doing the speaking himself he listens to Jihoon’s conversation with his parents. It’s sweet, hearing how they talk; it gives off a feeling like warm milk and honey, like soft blankets, something Soonyoung struggles to put his finger on. The way Jihoon jokes with his mom and dad and how their voices stay light, how it’s so clear that his parents missed him and are happy to have him back - it’s like home? Maybe he’s just overthinking it.

But they get to the house and Jihoon’s mom leads them up the stairs, saying something like  _ I’m sorry it’s a bit small, but Jihoon never had siblings to share a room with _ and  _ don’t worry about the bed, we’ll bring a spare mattress down for Jihoon to sleep on _ , and the thought stays at the back of his mind, nagging.

“I’ll take the mattress,” Soonyoung insists. “It’s Jihoon’s bed, anyway.” She laughs a little.

“Exactly. Jihoon has had his whole life to sleep in it, I’m sure one week on the floor won’t kill him. You’re our guest, anyhow.”

Protesting any more than that is useless and she won’t hear a word of it, urging them to settle in and unpack their things, shower, get comfortable,  _ I’ll let you know when lunch is ready, okay boys? _ before leaving the room. Soonyoung turns to look at Jihoon.

“I’ll take the mattress,” he says. Jihoon scoffs.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry. The bed is all yours.”

“But I feel bad,” Soonyoung whines.

“Don’t, I honestly don’t mind.”

“Okay, but - “

“I’m either taking the mattress on the floor,” Jihoon says, with some air of finality, “or we’re sharing the bed. And you can make all the jokes you like about that, but fact of the matter is that the two of us won’t be comfortable in it.” Soonyoung glances at it. He can feel it, right on the tip of his tongue -  _ Actually, I think sharing the bed would be plenty comfortable  _ \- but he bites it back and swallows, relenting.

“Fine, okay. But you get to shower first, alright?”

It’s some time later, after they’ve cleaned up and changed into fresh sets of clothes, after they’ve eaten lunch (which is delicious, by the way, and Jihoon’s parents are starting to convince Soonyoung that they might actually be angels sent from heaven with how wonderful they are), when Soonyoung finds himself laying on Jihoon’s bed, just on the edge of sleep.

He didn’t nap on the train, he realizes. He woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the station and hasn’t had a bit of rest since, and now he’s full and satisfied and Jihoon is sitting at the foot of the bed with a pillow in his arms and his eyes set on Soonyoung. Blurry, he looks blurry between Soonyoung’s eyelashes, clouded over with sleep and a little more dreamy looking than usual.

“You need a nap,” Jihoon says, tossing him the pillow. “We can make plans later, but right now you should sleep.”

“What’re we gonna do?” Soonyoung mumbles, ignoring the other boy’s concerns. “What’s there to do in Busan? I want to do all your favorite things with you.” Jihoon’s gaze is already soft, but it seems to soften even more, then. He tilts his head to one side and smiles a little. Soonyoung, not for the first time, can’t help thinking how nice Jihoon looks when he’s smiling. His whole face seems to liven a bit.

“Well, the restaurants are nice - God, you say  _ I _ eat a lot, but I promise you’ll go ham when you see the food they have here, and the markets are really nice, too. There’s this coffee shop I like, I can take you, and - and the beach, Soonyoung, we  _ have _ to go take a walk along there.” Jihoon pauses, breathing, and even in his sleepy, skewed sort of state, Soonyoung can see how bright his eyes are. “It’s just so pretty here, you know. I never get bored of seeing it. And I’m - I’m glad that you’ll get to see it, too.”

Soonyoung can’t look anywhere else but at Jihoon. There’s something about him in this moment - more than just pretty, more than just  _ I like the look of your eyes and your cute messed up hair and how lovely you smile _ , so much more than that. It’s like Soonyoung can see his whole heart, too, right out with the rest of him, and it’s more beautiful than anything else. The thought sends a spike through Soonyoung’s chest.

“You really love it here, huh.”

Jihoon breathes out a short laugh, almost embarrassed, and his voice is so soft. “‘Course I do,” he says. “This is home.”

Soonyoung almost wants to cry. Instead, he smiles.

“Home … Thank you for bringing me to your home.” Jihoon looks amused.

“It’s nothing, really. I’d say you fit right in.”

_ Home. This is home. _ Soonyoung can feel his smile all the way down to his heart.

_ I fit right in. _


	6. act 6

➴  **scene 1**

 

**SOONYOUNG ISN’T MUCH** of a morning person, but he seems to like mornings lately. Lately, when Jihoon’s the one shaking him awake and telling him, “Hey, can we get to the beach while it’s still empty? We can stop for coffee on the way.” He likes them when he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed and still drowsy, watching Jihoon stumble over his own feet while he tries to pull his socks on, and the way his ears go red when he notices Soonyoung staring. 

He isn’t much of a morning person, but this morning is nice, when the world is quiet and the sun makes Jihoon’s eyes look more hazel than brown. They melt a little, Soonyoung melts a little, and then he’s wondering  _ why _ \- but he can’t get very far with that thought before Jihoon starts to say something, and then all he can think is  _ I like the sound of your voice _ . It’s got a sleepy lilt to it, still rough after waking up. Soonyoung kind of wants to choke.

_ Does my voice sound that nice? Do I look that cute this early in the morning? What does he think of my eyes?  _ Why does he care so much? Jihoon smiles at him, and the answer is just at the edge of his conscience, but he pushes it away. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“I’m sorry it’s so early, I just think this is the best time to see it.” Jihoon almost seems embarrassed when he says it, hugging his sketchbook closer to his chest. “It’s not even anything really special, it just … it’s special to me. I dunno.” Soonyoung can feel his smile throughout his whole body.

“I bet it’s wonderful.”

They stop at a cafe along the way and split Soonyoung’s pastry on the way back out, and it isn’t long until he can feel his steps sinking ever so slightly over soft sand, tiny bits of rock slipping into his shoes. Jihoon was right - something about it  _ is _ special. Soonyoung’s not sure if it’s the beach itself or the simple fact that Jihoon is so fond of it, but he feels it.

They find a spot by the rocks, where Soonyoung can sit cross-legged and the water won’t reach him and he can look at the little bubbles, the sea foam, his own reflection mirrored back at him and wobbling with every wave that comes and goes. Jihoon sits sort of nearby, close enough for Soonyoung to reach out and touch him, but turned so that the latter can’t see whatever it is he’s sketching. It’s peaceful, an empty blue expanding outward from Soonyoung’s chest and clearing up every negative feeling that might be lingering.

Every now and then, one of them will say something - some random thought rolling off the tongue without much intention - but it’s always really short, fading out quickly into quiet again while Jihoon keeps working. There’s sunlight from somewhere overhead creeping up his leg, spilling warm and golden-like against his thigh. Every few minutes, Jihoon glances up at him.

“Don’t look at me,” Soonyoung says. “Focus on your drawing.”

The other boy's eyes snap back toward the book in his hands, face flushing. "You're distracting me," he mumbles. Soonyoung hasn't done anything but stare at him for the last ten minutes, but he chooses not to mention it.

"What is it, this time?" he asks, and  _ now _ he's being distracting. "Show me."

“Uh, no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s private.” Soonyoung scoffs.

“You’ve never had a problem showing me your stuff before, what’s different?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and it’s almost funny seeing it - the way he blinks really hard, stares kind of blankly at his lap like he doesn’t know where to go from there. Soonyoung takes advantage of his momentary paralysis and reaches out suddenly, snatching the sketchbook out of Jihoon’s hands.

“Whoa, hey, give it back! Soonyoung, I swear - “

Soonyoung giggles like he’s twelve and stands up so he’s towering over Jihoon, grinning.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know I love everything you make, I bet - oh.”

His throat seems to close up when he looks down at the drawing, cutting off his words and all the oxygen in him in a second. It’s him - the drawing, the sketch, it’s him. The way he looks right now. He reaches up absentmindedly to touch his hair, feeling it stick up in some spots and seeing the way it’s reflected on the paper. Every detail is matched, from the pink chill on his cheeks to the tangle of his eyelashes, and something squeezes in his chest. When he finally looks back up, Jihoon’s chewing his lip and looking at anything but him. Soonyoung tries to laugh.

“I thought you said you hated portraits.” He looks at it again, the focus on his face and the vague outline of clouds behind him, the ocean. It’s really pretty. He thinks he actually looks sort of pretty.

“I do. But - I mean, I wasn’t going to, but you were just sitting there and I thought - I dunno, like the ocean’s really pretty and - and later when I go back to color it, I can make the sky sort of pink and - I mean, uh, if you don’t mind me coloring it. I can stop if you want, but I just - “

He stops when Soonyoung laughs again, harder this time. “It’s just a drawing, Jihoon. It’s okay. I like it.” He thinks he sounds sincere enough, but part of him feels like he’s lying. This feels like a whole lot more than  _ just a drawing _ .

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s really nice.” He thinks back to a few weeks before, remembering. He grins like he knows he’s being annoying. “Not a single inaccuracy, as far as I can tell. I guess you really  _ don’t _ get tired of staring at me, huh?”

Jihoon’s face turns practically crimson, and it’s hard for Soonyoung to keep his composure when the boy glares at him. “Shut up, asshole,” he grumbles. “I’ll throw that whole book in the water, I swear.”

“Okay, okay,” Soonyoung surrenders, holding up his hands and sitting back down. Just then, it hits him -

It’s that feeling, so much stronger than before - no longer snaking down his spine but standing behind him entirely, with its arms wrapped around him, impossibly tight, whispering along his neck and behind his ear. Soonyoung feels horrified, but even more than that, he wants to give into it. He shudders.

_ It’s nothing. Probably. Probably nothing. Oh, God. _

It’s something. He can make all the jokes he wants but that drawing is something, Jihoon is something, this, whatever this is - it’s  _ something _ .

But he swallows hard and smiles like it isn’t, and tries not to think about it.

 

➴  **scene 2**

 

It’s strange, Jihoon has a way of fogging up his conscience more than anyone else. Soonyoung’s not sure what it is about him that makes him so worth thinking about.

Soonyoung’s not sure what it is about him, but he’ll stay up, dog-tired and slipping in and out of reality, just for their late night talks. Soonyoung crashes at 3 in the morning and manages to think of him even in that split second before sleep takes him. He spaces out during meals, spaces out while he’s working; he’ll stare blankly at his sketchbook for half an hour before snapping out of it, and  _ fuck _ , he was thinking of Jihoon again.

Jihoon makes him feel surreal. Jihoon makes him feel like he’s dancing on wet pavement. Jihoon makes him feel warm and weak, like he’s free-falling through one of Michelangelo’s skies.

Soonyoung’s not sure what it is about him, but Jihoon really is something special.

He feels like he’s screwed.

Especially tonight, because they’re on their last few days in Busan and Jihoon’s mom is going all out with dinner every night, and Soonyoung isn’t used to these sorts of things. Family meals, where the atmosphere is warm and comfortable and there isn’t any yelling and arguing or - worse - dead silence. Family meals where Soonyoung doesn’t have to wolf down his food and get his ass back up to his bedroom as quickly as possible. And it sucks, because this is a family meal, but it’s not  _ his _ family meal. He’s not family.

So they make their way back up to Jihoon’s room once dinner is finished and he tries hard to act like nothing’s bothering him, but Jihoon’s not a total dumbass and Soonyoung isn’t good at being discreet, so the lie doesn’t last very long.

“What’s the matter?” Jihoon asks. “You seem off.”

“I do? I mean, I’m fine.”

Jihoon crawls up onto his bed and pats the mattress, telling Soonyoung to come up, too. “I don’t buy that. What’s up? Tell me.”

Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. Part of him really does want to talk about it, though. If only to get it off his chest.

“Your family is really great,” he says, going to lay down so his head is next to Jihoon’s thigh and his legs are propped up on a pillow. “Like,  _ really _ great. It kind of … I dunno. Makes me feel shitty? I wish I had that.” His breath seems to shake inside him. Jihoon doesn’t say anything.

“Remember when I said, like, I’m grateful for the way I was brought up? Because it made me who I am today, or some shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I take it back. Growing up in that household only made me bitter and distrusting and I - I hate that. I hate that I refuse to let myself feel a certain way because I’m scared of what might happen if I do, and it’s all because - because of - “ Soonyoung stops there, his voice breaking off into something sharp and painful. He tries to inhale, calm his breathing, calm himself, but it winds up sounding more like a gasp.

“It just - It sucks, y’know? I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do  _ anything _ . But they couldn’t help it. They couldn’t settle for ruining themselves, they had to ruin our entire family, and I got left with the aftermath. I just - I wish I knew how to fix myself.” He pauses. “I never told you about my parents, did I?”

“No, but I kind of figured. Context clues.”

There’s a short stretch of quiet between them, something glassy and razor thin, other than the sounds of Soonyoung’s sniffing. He hears Jihoon take a breath, and the glass shatters. He says, “Do you remember what  _ I _ said, Soonyoung? That same day.” Soonyoung swipes at his nose.

“What?”

“I said I like the way you are. I wasn’t lying, either. I liked you then, and I like you now - fuck, Soonyoung, I like you a  _ lot _ , now. More than I ever thought I would, and I - I care about you. You don’t deserve this. You never deserved any of that … but that’s the way things turned out, yeah? And I still think you’re an incredible person.”

Soonyoung’s chest is caving in on itself, cracking with the force of all his feelings and breaking through completely. He wants to reach up and wipe his eyes, but somehow Jihoon’s hand ended up in his and he doesn’t want to let it go.

“I’m just so scared of ending up like them,” he says quietly. “They were so unhappy. I don’t want that. But being like this - always with my guard up, cynical … that doesn’t make me happy, either. I can’t win.”

They’re both silent for some time, and Soonyoung’s skin feels tight where his tears are drying. He almost laughs, smiling a little when he remembers something.

“You know,” he says, before he can stop himself, “when I was a kid, my mom had this flower garden in our backyard, and I spent a lot of time in it. Because sometimes - sometimes their arguing got so loud I couldn’t even ignore it from inside my bedroom, so I’d go outside and sit with the plants, and I could distract myself, kind of? Like just looking at them and hearing all the outside sounds … birds, the wind, whatever … I could kind of block out the bad stuff.” He hasn’t told anyone that before, not even Wonwoo. It always seemed a little silly.

“When I look at your paintings, I get the same sort of feeling. Because you draw a lot of nature scenes, flowers and stuff … like, you’re already an incredible artist, but then looking at those types of things … it’s comforting, in a way. Makes me feel safer. Is that dumb?”

Jihoon doesn’t even seem to think about it, answering in a second, “No, it’s not dumb at all.” And then, slower, he says, “You know, it’s okay to be vulnerable, and it’s okay to feel scared in doing so. Talk to your flowers, tell them all your stories. Mix honey in with your tea. Cut your hair and watch it grow back. Things can be sweet, Soonyoung, they can be meaningful. Things can be torn down and built back up again. You can be scared, but you should know that being scared just means you’re living.”

Jihoon says that, sounding so sincere and so heartfelt, like he really cares. Hearing it feels like brushing the surface of the sun. Honestly, on-God, heat burning down to his very core. Jihoon catches his eye and Soonyoung thinks something terrible has just happened. Soonyoung thinks there’s a fist wrapped around his heart.

_ Being scared just means that you’re living _ . Right now, with Jihoon’s hand in his and his heartbeat so loud in his ears, Soonyoung is terrified.

 

➴  **scene 3**

 

After a week away and enough home-cooked meals to ruin microwave dinners for him completely, Soonyoung boards the train with Jihoon by his side. They’d said goodbye to the boy’s parents when they were dropped off at the station, Jihoon’s mom holding his face (which had gone totally red) and telling him to  _ do good, have fun, don’t forget to call every now and then,  _ and  _ we love you so much _ . He wasn’t expecting it, but she did the same to Soonyoung, squeezing him in a tight hug and telling him to come visit again, because it was so nice to have him and  _ Jihoon’s never had such a wonderful friend _ . It made him warm all the way down to his stomach, and he promised he’d see them again. He wants to, really, he does.

Jihoon doesn’t sleep the whole ride, this time, but rather he pulls out his sketchbook and starts drawing something. Soonyoung had sent him the photo that he took during that initial train ride, the blur of grass and vivid patches of yellow flowers, and Jihoon’s got it open on his phone now, glancing at it every now and then while he replicates it in pencil. Soonyoung almost feels proud, knowing he’s the one who took that photo, and he doesn’t even bother calling himself an idiot for feeling so fond.

“I’m sad we have to go back,” he says, and Jihoon smiles a little.

“We’ll visit again. If you want, I mean. My parents really loved you.”

“That’s great, because I really loved your parents.”

“They’d probably adopt you if they could.”

“I’d let them.”

Jihoon looks over at him, eyebrow quirked, and he says, “I wouldn’t. I don’t want you to be my brother.”

“What do you want me to be, then?” Soonyoung’s cheeky, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand, looking at Jihoon from under his lashes with what he hopes is his most annoying smile. Jihoon scoffs, but he doesn’t answer.

Soonyoung doesn’t stop smiling, but something seizes up inside him, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring until Jihoon says, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like … I don’t know,” he shifts. “I look like a mess right now, and the longer you look the worse it gets.”

“Oh, fuck _ off _ ,” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “You look great. You always do, dumbass.”

“Not true. You said you like people watching, didn’t you? People watch.”

“I am people watching.”

“Not  _ me _ , other people.”

The situation feels familiar, and Soonyoung thinks back to a few months ago, when he and Jihoon still barely knew each other. He’s almost proud at how much they’ve changed together.

Like, a few months ago, he would’ve found it interesting to get to know the different people in this train car; it’s easy to find a bunch of odd characters when you’re traveling anywhere. But for once,  he doesn’t want to people watch. He doesn’t care about whoever it is around them. He only cares about Jihoon, he’s only looking at Jihoon.

Soonyoung feels the tremor in his heart, and he thinks he isn’t ready to live. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always feel bad when i put myself down because i dont really want sympathy points but like ,,,,,,,, i feel like this chapter was lacking ?? in some way ?? like maybe it was too rushed or something hnngg
> 
> but !! they're making progress !! and i tried my best so i hope you liked it despite the fact that it maybe wasn't super duper great ;(( thank youuu as always for taking the time to read ! <3 i love u mwuah


	7. act 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !! this one's a bit shorter than my usual chapters, but i had gotten to a point in it where i felt like i should stop and pick back up in the next one, so i hope you don't mind !!!

➴  **scene 1**

 

**SOONYOUNG IS LAYING** on his back and staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the way Wonwoo tells him to  _ sit up, this isn’t a dorm.  _ “The librarian will hate you if she sees you half-asleep like this,” he says.

“The librarian already hates me. Remember when I spilled coffee on that copy of Shakespeare?”

“Her hate is valid.” Soonyoung scoffs.

“No, not valid. It was an accident. I said sorry and even paid for the replacement. I’m a broke college student who spent money on  _ Shakespeare _ .”

“The sign on the front door  _ does _ say to not bring in beverages, but alright, yeah. Not your fault.”

Soonyoung throws a halfhearted glare in his friend’s direction and sits up so that he’s leaning against one of the cushions, instead. He kind of missed this, actually. It’s been a while since he and Wonwoo hung out one-on-one.

“Are you going for lunch with us this weekend?”

“I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Soonyoung frowns. “What lunch?”

“Jeonghan invited us out, since it’s been a while. It’s one of the only times all our schedules line up.”

“Oh. Well, uh. Not mine.” Wonwoo pauses midway through flipping a page in his textbook, glancing over at him curiously. “I already have plans,” Soonyoung explains. “There’s this exhibition happening in the photography department. Me and Jihoon were gonna go.”

“On Sunday?”

“Yeah. Sunday’s the last day it’s open. We didn’t go earlier because there was, like, a different theme for each day? And Sunday’s theme was the one we wanted to see most, and - why are you looking at me like that?” Wonwoo has his mouth twisted into a weird sort of frown, like a scowl, but more disappointed than angry. There’s a knot between his eyebrows, and Soonyoung’s almost tempted to reach out and rub it away.

“You can’t just … not go? You see Jihoon all the time, and when’s the last time we hung out with Jeonghan? You ditched last time, too, when Seungcheol had that party.”

“I didn’t feel like going out that night! I would’ve rather stayed in, and I’d feel bad canceling on Jihoon when I’ve already agreed to go with him.”

Wonwoo stares at him a moment longer, before sighing and rolling his head back down to his textbook. He mumbles something, but Soonyoung can’t quite make it out.

“What?” he asks, and Wonwoo sighs again.

“You don’t have to pretend that you’re doing this out of politeness, Soonyoung, you can just say it.”

“Say what?”

“You’d rather be with Jihoon than with us. I get it.”

Soonyoung blinks, caught off guard because he was definitely  _ not _ expecting their conversation to turn this way. Wonwoo continues, “You’re kind of blowing all your friendships, Soonyoung, and for what?” Soonyoung watches him blankly, his mind going white and empty. The former purses his lips and runs a hand through his hair, looking just as frustrated as Soonyoung is starting to feel. “Look, I’m not saying this isn’t a good thing - man, I’m  _ glad _ you like Jihoon so much, I‘m  _ glad _ you two get along so well - but we’re here, too. You’re just gonna keep dropping us like this? For some boy?”

“I’m not dropping you,” Soonyoung says, and it’s automatic. “I wouldn’t do that. I care about you.”

“Not as much as you care about Jihoon.”

“No, I - Why are you saying that? Why do you keep talking about him like that? Like I - “

“Have a massive fucking crush on him? I don’t know, Soonyoung, maybe because you do. It’s kind of obvious.” Soonyoung splutters. Wonwoo just asked him if he could make it to  _ lunch _ , he didn’t think he’d get called out like this.

“Jesus, where is this coming from? I don’t - I mean, Jihoon just - “ he’s too flustered to get his sentences out properly, and he realizes too late that it isn’t helping his case. He wills his face not to heat up, but it does anyway.

“I don’t like Jihoon, not like that,” he tries again. “And you - I think you’re just being petty about this whole thing. Let me know in advance next time you guys decide to do something, okay? I’m not gonna be an ass and dip on someone else just because another offer came up, regardless of how much I might like them.”

Wonwoo takes so long to respond that Soonyoung starts to think that might be the end of it. He curls his legs under himself and pretends to study the nearest bookshelf, not even turning his head when Wonwoo finally does speak up.

“Sorry. You’re right, I’m being petty. That was dumb.”

“S’alright,” Soonyoung mumbles.

“One thing, though - “ Wonwoo starts, and Soonyoung groans internally.

“Can we be done with this, please? I swear to God, if you start saying some shit about Jihoon I’ll - “

“God, you’re so dense. How hard is it to understand? You can’t lie to your own feelings, Soon. If you like someone, that’s it. You can hate yourself for it, but you can’t force yourself to hate  _ them _ . Don’t say stuff when it’s pretty obvious to both of us that you’re lying.”

Soonyoung’s instinct is to argue back, but Wonwoo’s words sink in, and he freezes.  _ Don’t say stuff when it’s pretty obvious to both of us that you’re lying.  _ Right, okay.

He’ll keep quiet, this time.

 

➴  **scene 2**

 

Jihoon looks thoughtfully at all the photos, framed and hung up along the walls. The theme is  _ love _ , which Soonyoung argued was basic and boring, but Jihoon seemed so set on going  _ with or without him _ that he couldn’t really find it in him to say no. He’s really glad he didn’t, now.

Something he’s noticed over time is that Jihoon is really good at keeping neutral - in his expression, at least. His resting face is placid and almost sort of blank, and Soonyoung can never read it; when he smiles, though -  _ God _ .

Soonyoung likes to imagine that there’s a flower balanced on the tip of Jihoon’s nose, a small bud wrapped up tightly in itself, and when he smiles, it blossoms over his whole face. Soft, sunlit petals touch the corners of his eyes and turn his skin rosy, and his cheeks go up high enough for his eyelashes to brush them. He lights up entirely, and Soonyoung has decided that it’s the loveliest thing he’ll ever see - which is partly why he’s enjoying this exhibition date (but not a date) so much.

Every now and then, Jihoon will murmur something like, “Look how pretty that photo is,” or “I love this one a lot,” and Soonyoung has two options: hum and agree, or say something cheesy that he knows will get him a smack on the arm.

He opts for, “You’re prettier than all these photos combined,” and does, in fact, get hit for it. He thinks it’s worth it, though, because Jihoon smiles that big bright smile of his and shakes his head like he’s endeared, and Soonyoung is so overcome with affection that he doesn’t even stop to think about  _ why _ the feeling’s there.

He’s pretty much figured it out by now, anyway, but he doesn’t like to think about it.

Jihoon has a mind like a mosaic; colorful pieces put together to make something beautiful, and when he speaks, the beauty comes out in pulses. He says interesting things about music, books, films; every syllable is gorgeous and meaningful and Soonyoung’s heart can’t help hammering to the rhythm of his words.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, isn’t a mosaic. He’s scattered. It’s like someone took all the oil paints they own and threw them against a canvas, and Soonyoung is the result; his body is a smattering of neutrals dotted pink, his head is every color of the rainbow mixed to the point of looking muddy. His chest is a million shades of red, bleeding out and confused in some horrible state of chaos.

He can feel his eyelids falling lazy while he stares at Jihoon, watching the way his mouth works around the words -  _ I have a lot of respect for photographers, I think the difference between making meaning and finding it is interesting, and how a lot of us usually miss out on it, but  _ \- “Are you even looking?” Jihoon waves a hand in front of him, and Soonyoung jolts. Lightning white gets thrown into the mix of his mind.

“Yeah, I’m looking,” he says, but he doesn’t even bother turning towards the photograph Jihoon is talking about. He feels half-sober, like the most logical part of his brain - the one that’s going  _ hey dumbass, stop staring, you’re giving yourself away _ \- has been pushed all the way to the back of his head. The front part is just Jihoon’s name playing on loop.

And his name gets louder, and louder and louder, completely overtaking logic until the braver part of Soonyoung decides that he’s sick of sitting in misery -

So he leans in close enough to feel Jihoon’s lashes on his jaw, and he presses a kiss to the side of his nose. It’s soft and quick, and followed by another, this time on Jihoon’s cheek, and then another on his chin, and Soonyoung is  _ so _ close to the boy’s lips, when he pauses. He can feel the breath between them. He opens his eyes.

Jihoon looks like a deer caught in headlights, totally struck and standing stock still, and when Soonyoung looks to the side he can see a few bystanders glancing at them. He clears his throat and straightens himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah,” he says wearily, finally looking at the photograph. “It’s nice.”

His throat is dry, and neither one of them says a word about what happened.

 

➴  **scene 3**

 

Fucked. Soonyoung is so fucked.

He’s not really sure how it got to this point - all he’s really sure of is that Jihoon decided to come over that afternoon after the exhibition to hang out and watch Soonyoung work on one of his pieces, and now it’s still afternoon, but neither one of them is doing any watching or working. Hanging out isn’t even really the right term anymore - making out, more like.

It starts to get blurry around the time that Jihoon moves to sit next to Soonyoung rather than across from him, and he sits so close that Soonyoung can feel their thighs pressing together. Soonyoung thinks that  _ maybe _ a small pool of lava is starting to form in his stomach, that  _ maybe _ his cheeks are getting a little too red and a little too hot; he thinks that maybe Jihoon looks really cute in his lazy Sunday t-shirt and sweatpants, with his hair all messy, too. Soonyoung thinks that maybe, eventually, somehow, he slips his hand past the hem of Jihoon’s shirt and starts rubbing little circles against the small of his back, feeling his fingers burn right up against the skin. Soonyoung thinks that maybe he got caught staring at Jihoon’s lips a little too long.

So, yeah. Where are they now? Jihoon’s fingers tangling in Soonyoung’s hair and Soonyoung’s palms running along his waist, Soonyoung pressed up against the back of his chair and his chair pressed up against the wall; Jihoon’s mouth roaming, roaming, roaming along every bit of exposed skin and Soonyoung not doing a single thing to stop it -  _ the works. _ When they pull apart to breathe, Soonyoung has two seconds to clear his mind and figure out what the fuck is going on, but two seconds isn’t enough.

See, the thing is, Soonyoung’s kissed people before. He’s slept with people before. He doesn’t want a serious relationship, no, but none of that has to be serious. It’s just that  _ this _ feels different.

Like, when Jihoon sighs into his mouth and he gets shivers all down his spine, that’s not something he’s used to. When Jihoon stops kissing him only so that he can smile for a second, and Soonyoung can open eyes and see his little canine teeth glinting and all he can think is  _ okay, you’re so cute, but if you’re not going to bite me can we please get back to kissing? _ That’s different, too.

Kissing Jihoon makes him feel like every nerve is a wire cut in half and someone just poured water on him. Soonyoung thinks he’s short-circuiting. His brain keeps lagging, like every time he gets even close to forming a coherent thought all Jihoon has to do is tug a strand of his hair, and it disappears. Soonyoung runs his thumbs along Jihoon’s jawline and part of him is saying  _ hey, stop it, you’re not allowed to have this kind of fun with someone who’s just your friend _ \- but he doesn’t want to stop, not really.

Not until Jihoon breaks away to catch his breath and Soonyoung looks at him in full, watches the way his eyes are all lit up and how his lips are redder than usual, and he manages to force out the dumbest thing he could possibly say.

“We’re just friends, yeah?” The light dims a little. “Like, this is fun, but I’m not looking for anything serious. Is that …  Are we cool?”

Jihoon stares at him for a long time. His chest rises and falls too quickly, his breathing sounds too sharp, and every inhale feels like a needle poking into Soonyoung’s skin.

Finally, he says, “Yeah. ‘Course we are.”

And because Soonyoung is so desperate to believe it, he does.


	8. act 8

➴ **scene 1**

 

 **THEY KEEP IT** up, messing around every now and then when they get the chance - at each other’s dorms when their roommates are out, at the back of the library. Sometimes they’ll be out at lunch together, and Jihoon will purposely step on Soonyoung’s toes underneath the table and light his heart up in the stupidest way. He feels like he’s in grade school - just some dumb kid bouncing around on the playground who needs to get his feelings in check - but he can’t help it, right? It’s just the way Jihoon makes him feel.

Like that afternoon, when Soonyoung convinces Jihoon to go out to the park for a picnic - _since the weather is so nice_ \- and the latter agrees, even if he does complain a _lot_ about the bees and there being too much pollen in the air. They lay out the blanket and Jihoon unwraps the sandwiches he made for both of them, and Soonyoung can’t help staring at him while he does it. The sun catching in his hair. How he goes to lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder and presses a light kiss to his arm, lets his hand rest on Soonyoung’s thigh while they eat; the scene is almost domestic. They chat and keep each other warmer than the sun ever could. Jihoon laughs, and Soonyoung wants to drink up the sound of it. He could get _dizzy_ on a laugh like that.

It isn’t long before the food is gone and it’s just the two of them, and there’s nothing between them; not words, not space, not even a breath of air. Just them alone in a corner of the world where no one can see them, and their hands roaming, mouths roaming, roaming, roaming … 

Who has ever come this close? Who, in all his years of living, has touched him like this? So tender, so warm, just gentle and cautious and kind. Jihoon’s hands are made of light, sunlight on Soonyoung’s skin. His fingertips graze every blemish and every freckle. Soonyoung’s collarbone tingles, the corners of his eyes feel wet; his heart trembles in the palm of his hand and Jihoon holds his wrists. He wonders, can he feel it? The affection surging through his veins, his pulse going haywire, can he feel it? If nothing else, it’s the look on his face that has to give him away.

Jihoon breaks just to look at him, and he smiles sort of sheepishly. “ _Let’s go for a picnic_ , you said. Why do we always end up back here?”

Soonyoung decides that he doesn’t like the centimeters between them, so he moves in close again to kiss the corner of Jihoon’s mouth. “Because it’s fun,” he mumbles.

“Just fun?”

“Yeah. What else?” Jihoon doesn’t say anything to that, and Soonyoung wants to kick himself.

He’s made it pretty clear at this point that this is just a friends with benefits thing, no strings attached; they’re better off this way, he keeps telling himself. So why does he feel so _unsatisfied?_

Unsatisfied, unhappy - because this isn’t fun, not really. Soonyoung keeps reminding himself that strings get snipped and it always hurts to have them, but for the first time in his life, he’s starting to hate the freedom that comes with not being tied to someone. Like there’s this uncertainty in that neither one of them has any real obligation to keep this up, so who’s to say that Jihoon won’t just up and leave him for something better? That would hurt just as bad as any breakup, he thinks.

He can’t win. Not really. When they pack up their things a few hours later and start walking back to Soonyoung’s dorm, he isn’t winning. Jihoon’s hand brushes the back of his. Their steps fall in sync.

Jihoon sighs and Soonyoung thinks he can almost catch it, reach out and grab the soft air between them; soft air, lit up by sunlight and just brushing Soonyoung’s lips. Jihoon sighs, and Soonyoung’s enamored.

Losing, losing - what can he do?

 

➴ **scene 2**

 

“You could tell him how you feel.”

It’s just him and Wonwoo alone in the room, Jihoon having left a little while ago to catch up on some work. Soonyoung scoffs.

“If it were that easy, don’t you think I would’ve done it already?”

“You keep saying that - you can’t win, you can’t win - that’s bullshit, man. If you give up this stupid thing you’ve got going on and just _get together_ , properly - I mean, who knows? You might last a real long time, you might be really _happy_ together. But like this, the way things are now? You’re never going to be happy with it.”

“Wow, you’re so wise,” Soonyoung rolls his eyes.

“You say that like you’re being sarcastic, but you know I am.”

Wonwoo’s right, as much as he hates to admit it. Soonyoung’s just stubborn and scared of anything that feels. “Next time you hang out with him, say something.” He splutters.

“Wh-What?”

“Say something,” Wonwoo repeats. “Tell him, Jihoon, I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m emotionally constipated and also an idiot, and I have the fattest crush - “

“I’m not saying that.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s what you _should_ say. You have to say something eventually, you know. If you keep this up, at some point he’s just going to get sick of your shit and leave. _Then_ you’ll be fucked.”

“Fuck you. You’re right.”

Wonwoo smirks and gives him this look like _I know, I always am_ , and Soonyoung hates that he has every right to look that way. He says, “Maybe if you did less dumb shit, I wouldn’t have to prove you wrong so often,” and Soonyoung glares at him.

“I can’t believe you’re my best friend.”

“It’s because you love me.”

“And you love me.”

“Right. I wonder why.”

Soonyoung smiles a little to himself. He’s pretty lucky, he knows that - to act the way he does and still have great friends to back him up. It’s a wonder he hasn’t lost them, yet. His smile fades.

He could lose Jihoon. He could lose him, and he doesn’t want that.

“So do something about it,” Wonwoo tells him, and he nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he says, just a little reluctantly. “Yeah. I think I will.”

 

➴ **scene 3**

 

Soonyoung underestimated his ability to not freak the fuck out once he actually got around to _doing something_.

They’re laying in Jihoon’s bed with their legs crossed over each other, Jihoon’s cheek resting against Soonyoung’s chest, and all he can think is _fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I doing, what am I going to do, what can I even say, oh, God -_

He didn’t plan very far ahead. Jihoon asked him to come over and he thought as far as, “Okay, this is it,” and no further. Now he doesn’t know where to actually _go_ with it.

Soonyoung has come to the conclusion that he is simply - pitifully, painfully, horrifyingly - in love. He’s constantly caught on the corner of Jihoon’s mouth. Staring at his eyelashes and how they tangle is a hobby, now. He has the urge to hold Jihoon’s hand softly. He has the urge to kiss Jihoon, maybe not so softly. Jihoon makes his heart leap, so high it gets stuck in his throat and he can barely get his words around it. Jihoon makes him cry. Jihoon makes him want to yell. Jihoon is beautiful and new, and Soonyoung is _awfully_ in love. It scares the hell out of him.

So, when Jihoon says, “Can we talk about something?” he doesn’t see a sign of opportunity - he doesn’t see anything at all. His mind blanks and the panic alarms go off in his head, and he knows he’s going to screw this up.

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to sound too breathless. “What is it?”

“So … I know you said this is only friendly. I _know_ how you feel about this, but I … “ he breaks off, and Soonyoung nudges his foot.

“But what?”

“You’re gonna hate me for this.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I can’t hate you. Just - Just say it.”

“Okay, well, er - let me say it like this. How do you feel when we’re together? Like, when we kiss, does your heart hit the ceiling? Do you get that feeling in your stomach like - like someone’s tickling your insides and stretching out the ribs in your chest? Because I do - my heart goes super fast like, every time we touch, and I - fuck, I know you probably don’t feel that way, but I have to ask. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Soonyoung’s quiet for a really long time. Jihoon’s head feels heavy on him, and he can’t feel his ribs being stretched apart, but they feel more like they’re caving in. Like his heartbeat and the weight of Jihoon against them are both too much for them to handle, and they’re breaking. His breath shakes.

 _No_ , he wants to say, _no, you’re not crazy, I feel it too, I know exactly what you mean_ \- but Soonyoung’s never been good with using the right words at the right time, and so instead, he says, “Please don’t.”

There’s a beat when everything in the room goes still, and then Jihoon sits up, looking down at him and frowning. “What do you mean?” he asks. “Please don’t, what? You have to be kidding.”

“Look, I’m sorry - “

“This is so shitty, you know that? I don’t even know what I was expecting. Like maybe there was some chance you’d tell me I’m wrong, and you actually do feel that way - but of _course_ you don’t. All the - All the things we’ve done, when we hold hands and kiss and - and - “ he inhales sharply and presses his lips into a tight line, cutting himself off. Soonyoung wants to say something, try and fix what he’s just done, but Jihoon keeps going.

“I like you a lot,” is what he says, and he sounds _so_ choked up. “I like you a lot more than I know you’d ever want me to, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry that’s so inconvenient for you - but it’s the truth,” his voice cracks. “I love you and that’s the truth.”

Soonyoung can see the light reflecting in thin strips down Jihoon’s cheeks where the tear tracks are starting to form, and his heart feels like it’s being compressed. “It’s one thing for you to not feel the same,” he says, and Soonyoung can hear him trying to keep the wobble out of his voice. “It’s not your fault, you can’t help that and it’s my problem to deal with. But what _hurts_ , Soonyoung, is when you make me these empty promises and trick me into thinking that maybe - maybe I can be happy with you. That hurts so _bad_.” Jihoon pauses. He presses the balls of his hands against his eyes like that’ll stop them from tearing up, and exhales softly.

“Just leave me alone, yeah? There’s no point in any of this if it doesn’t mean anything to you the way it does to me.”

It’s just that, just those sad, desolate sounding words, and suddenly Soonyoung is struck with the weight of everything - he sits up too quickly and chokes, trying to talk while his vision goes spotty from vertigo.

“Fuck, no, wait - Jihoon, no, I didn’t mean that, I just - “

“What, Soonyoung? This is _fun_ for you, and you don’t want to give it up? It isn’t fun for me, you know.”

“No, I _know_ it’s not fun, forget everything I ever said, I’m just a dumbass who doesn’t know how to articulate his feelings and I - holy fuck, Jihoon, I have never felt for anyone the way I feel about you, and that is _terrifying_ to me.”

Jihoon stills, mouth caught in a sort of grimace. His eyes are still hard, staring down at Soonyoung, but now he looks confused, too. Soonyoung waves his hands frantically.

“Just, please, I’m sorry I suck at talking but _please_ try to understand this, I … I draw these lines, because I’ve never felt so close to anyone, not like this. I don’t know what to _do_ when I feel like this. If I put up boundaries, then I’m safe, and I know you’re so much smarter than I am and I remember everything you told me, how it’s okay to be scared and vulnerable - but it’s hard, you know? And I panic so easily, and I like you so, _so_ much - no, fuck that, I _love_ you - that my body just seizes up and my brain doesn’t know how to act, and I - I just end up making things worse, in the end.”

He talks so fast, trying to force everything out before he has the chance to  any more mistakes; it all sounds jumbled and kind of messy, and it’s all he can do to hope that Jihoon gets it - but Jihoon doesn’t say anything, so he tries again, Slower, this time.

“I do love you, even if I’m a fatass coward and screw things up all the time. I just - I need you to know that. It _does_ mean something to me.”

Jihoon stares at him blankly. “So, I just … lost my shit over nothing?”

“No, oh my God. I’d be pissed at me, too.”

He leans back a little, and Soonyoung can see the tension melting off of him slowly. Jihoon looks at him like he just finished running a marathon and Soonyoung was the finish line. Exhausted, relieved.

“You … You meant all that? You’re not just saying it to save your own ass, right?"

Soonyoung shakes his head so hard it hurts, and he says, “No, I meant it really. I thought it would pass for a little while, but when it didn’t … Wonwoo told me to stop being an asshole, basically.”

“Ugh, thank _God_ for Wonwoo.” Soonyoung laughs a little, and because the air feels lighter, because he feels like he can, he reaches out to grab Jihoon’s arm and pulls him back down until they’re laying next to each other again. He sighs.

“What now?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like. Where do we go from here? I’ve never done this before.”

Jihoon moves so that his head is resting under Soonyoung’s chin, and the latter can feel his breath against his neck. It feels warm, sending hot lines of affection down his skin and right through his chest. Jihoon says, “We can go anywhere, it doesn’t matter. Just so long as you’re comfortable.” He pauses. “But, um … it would be nice if we could drop the whole ‘friends’ thing.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees, “we can do that. I’m sorry I pulled that on you.”

“It kind of sucked, yeah,” Jihoon admits, “but I get why you did it. I’m just - I’m happy things turned out like this. You know, you don’t have to be so scared. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“You can say that now, but things can change.”

Jihoon sits up slightly, craning his neck so he can look into Soonyoung’s eyes without putting any more space between their bodies. “Of course things can change, but they always do, and they always have. You’ve endured that your entire life. I don’t know where we’ll be in a few months’ time, but I can tell you right now, I’m not going to hurt you.” He lays back down, and the hardness slips from his tone, replaced by something more delicate.

“I love you now,” he says, “and I feel like I will for a long time. Can you trust that?”

It takes Soonyoung a moment - a blink, a beat of uncertainty - but then he nods, feeling Jihoon’s hair tickle his jaw. “I can.” Jihoon smiles against him.

“Good,” he says, “then I think we’ll be just fine.”

 

➴ **scene 4**

 

Soonyoung has found love in a million different shades - shades of red and pink, right under Jihoon’s eyes when he smiles hard and wide; love is colored like one of those gardens he loves to paint so much, and it’s sweet, it’s salty like chocolate-covered pretzels and their lips soft against each other. Love is vivid in the form of Jihoon. It’s foreign, but Soonyoung’s willing to try.

In classrooms, studios, with acrylic-stained skin and fingerprints printed orange along his jaw where Jihoon touches him. When he tells Jihoon to take more breaks from drawing because his hands are calloused and rough from endlessly holding pencils and brushes, and Jihoon says _no, it’s fine, I haven’t even done that much today,_ and Soonyoung knows he’s lying from the feeling of their hands holding tight.

When he watches Jihoon paint his heart beats in his throat; when he’s working himself, trying to build up his portfolio or simply wasting time - Jihoon makes his way into nearly every drawing, in some way or another. He _likes_ the burn of his skin, now; when they come so close together his body feels like it’s in flames, he doesn’t hate it the way he used to. He stills gets scared. He still overthinks, sometimes, but Jihoon has taught him that these things can be beautiful and kind. The flame doesn’t mean he’s dying, it’s only keeping him warm.

His dreams are valentine tye-dyed, caught in the shape of Jihoon’s mouth. Colors are pretty because they remind him of one certain boy, they’re brighter and livelier and he smiles harder when he uses them. Jihoon kisses him. Red, red, sunburnt pink.

“I love you,” he tells him, and Soonyoung knows that in this life, in past lives and future lives, every artist who’s ever lived is jealous of them. Picasso frowns at what they have. Raphael knows that nothing he’s made is as beautiful as them, together, entwined; Monet’s gardens turn green in springtime envy.

And Soonyoung, consumed by it, accepts it. He tells Jihoon he loves him back, and he’s accepted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! the last chapter!!!! omg i cannot tell you how weird it felt to finish this like. it feels like i started it so long ago???? and even though 8 chapters might not seem like a lot it's been a really hectic last few months for me, totally screwing up my motivation to write and making updates super slow at times, and i'm soso grateful to anyone who's been patient and kind and has left comments or kudos like yall r all the loves of my life and i appreciate it endlessly <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: 04ngel  
> twitter: cheniuvrs 
> 
> this has also been cross-posted to wattpad under the username kwanies !
> 
> playlist for this fic is "watching u paint" on spotify <3


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